Saving Gabriel
by RalynnFrost
Summary: Claire ventures back in time to stop the fall of Gabriel Gray and the rise of Sylar in an effort to save the world from a sociopathic serial killer. AU - Sylaire
1. Lord of the Sith, Not So Much

**Saving Gabriel**

**Inspired by "Cry Little Sister" by Aiden**

"_Cry little sister (thou shall not fall)._

_Come to your brother (thou shall not die)._

_Unchain me, sister (thou shall not fear)._

_Love is with your brother (thou shall not kill)."_

* * *

><p><strong>1<strong>

**Lord of the Sith, Not So Much**

* * *

><p><em>February 13, 2006 - 31 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

Claire closed her eyes and paused with her hand resting on the handle of the shop's door. She drew in a deep breath through her nose and exhaled it with her mouth, wishing she could draw her open coat closer around her to ward off the chill in the air, but also finding the low temperature soothing. Her stomach was twisted into a mass of nervous knots that refused to relinquish their hold. Rapid cellular regeneration may have kept her from falling ill for all of her life but the sensation turbulently churning inside of her then was most certainly nausea.

"Now or never," she whispered to herself wishing that the strength in those words would help to steel her resolve. Claire opened her eyes to the Gray and Sons logo sticking to the other end of the slightly fogged glass before her and took another steadying breath. People walking by were beginning to stare but she was hard-pressed to care. None of them could possibly know what really awaited her beyond the simple entryway.

The door opened, seemingly of its own accord, and a tiny bell above signaled her arrival, sending her already strained heart into a burst of erratic spasms. She paused for a moment just inside of the threshold for her eyes to adjust to the relative darkness of the shop from the bright outside world. With the exception of incessant ticks and tocks sounding from every direction, the interior of the building was startlingly quiet, allowing the rapid rush of her own blood flow and hearty pulse to fill her alert ears.

Clocks of every size, shape, and variety rhythmically kept time in perfect unison. Tall ornately carved grandfather clocks were intuitively positioned to assist consumers in discerning relative categories of purchase. Simple conventional time keepers hung from the walls alongside more intricate ones with differing background designs featuring fantastic pictures of scenery and nature. Collectible and antique cuckoos were delicately displayed from padded shelves. There was even a small selection of novelty pieces in the far corner that offered a distracting ambience in comparison to the rest of the place with brightly glowing neon colors and reversed numbers meant to make a person stop and think about what they were looking at. A long glass display case ran parallel to the wall near the door, showing rows of wrist watches from the casual to the expensive, and even flashy formal. Not a single speck of dust could be found on any visible surface despite the slightly musty smell of the atmosphere.

"Hello," a low, velvety baritone voice greeted from somewhere beyond her view, simultaneously interrupting her observation of the surroundings and sending a surge of adrenaline through her veins. It was a voice that she would recognize anywhere. The one that had haunted her nightmares every time she closed her eyes.

_Don't scream._

"How can I help you today?"

_Drop dead, maybe._

The tall, lean visage of her arch nemesis appeared from a back room, wiping his hands on a stained rag. Claire automatically focused on the mundane action, her brain conjuring images of grotesque blood smears. But there were none, and if she had anything to do about it, there never would be.

"I, um, I have this watch that I need to get fixed," she mumbled, using every last ounce of her restraint to avoid screaming obscenities at him, or just giving in to her body's will to bolt back through the door and run away at top speed, shrieking like a mad woman. She fished through her purse for the object in question, reluctant to take her eyes off of her enemy.

His state of dress seemed to emphasize his lanky frame. He wore a pair of highly polished brown leather shoes that drew attention to his not quite properly fitting brown trousers, exposing at least an inch of white socks beneath. His powder blue shirt was primly tucked in and buttoned to the very top of the extremely stiff collar. The drab gray sweater vest hanging frumpily from his shoulders completed the look, giving him the appearance of a man that was still being dressed by his mother. Heavy black-rimmed glasses sheltered his dramatic brow line and enhanced the set of deeply intense, calculating brown eyes. Claire noted that he must not have discovered his prized hair gel yet. Even though his thick dark hair was severely parted to the side, a thin lock had sprung loose and waved defiantly over his forehead.

"Well, you certainly came to the right place," he said softly with a timid smile. She couldn't help herself. She visibly flinched as he took a step towards her. He paused, having noticed her reaction and tilted his head ever so slightly to the side that someone else may never have perceived the motion, as though he were attempting to read her for the open book that she had always been to him. Her fingers combed over the cool metallic surface of the revolver concealed within her bag, hesitating briefly before retrieving an inconspicuous looking black wrist watch.

Claire offered a conciliatory smile and forced her legs to break free of the invisible grips that better judgment had used to hold her in place. She crossed a portion of the distance between them and held out the broken time piece for him to take possession of. Her eyes carefully darted away from the _Sylar_ emblem beneath the cracked face, hands permanently frozen at 11:53 on the date of September 28, 2006.

He slowly closed the remaining gap of space and took the watch from her trembling fingers, taking care to avoid contact with her skin. Everything about this man was unquestionably different from the legendary Boogeyman that he was destined to become. His stance and posture were non-threatening, that of a man who wished more to remain unnoticed by the world around him than to ostentatiously project his persona. His movements were calculated and cautious so as not to disturb or startle her, and his eyes averted hers except when necessary for polite conversation. Even the air around his being seemed to protest that she had nothing to fear from him, but none of this could possibly dissuade her from such a basic survival instinct. Not after all of the horrific things he had done to her.

"Oh, wow," his eyes widened in surprise. "This is incredible. I've been working on something _exactly_ like this for years now." He turned a shy but intriguing smile on her as his long fingers inspected the device. He tapped on the glass of the watch face, studying the crack, and lifted it to his ear to listen to the inner machinations.

"How about that. Small world, huh?" she replied awkwardly, knowing only too well how true that statement rang. Goosebumps prickled over her skin. The monster, her personal tormentor, and the damn devil himself was standing only a foot away from her, holding his most precious possession and the symbol of his terrifying reign because she had bestowed it upon him. Claire expected him to turn against her any moment and start laughing maniacally as he raised those deadly fingers against her.

"Sylar Field Edition modeled after the Russian watch Allied commander John Pershing brought back to America with vintage German parts from 1917. This is… absolutely amazing. Where did you get this?" he inquired with open awe, flitting his eyes to her from the corners but refusing to break contact with the watch.

"It was… a gift," she finished lamely, wishing she could slap herself. _Remember the mission Claire. We only get one shot at this. We have to save the future. The mission. The mission. The mission._ "Do you think you can fix it?"

"Yeah." He became solemn for a moment, lost in a deep thought. "Yeah, I think I can." He flashed her a wide dopey grin before carefully recomposing himself.

"Great… So I should come back…?"

"Um, tomorrow. I already have the parts for it so I can work on it tonight and probably have it finished by tomorrow afternoon."

_Is he actually excited about this?_ "Okay then. I will be back tomorrow." She lightly clapped her hands together and balanced her weight on the balls of her feet before rigidly turning her back on him to exit the shop.

"Oh, wait."

_Here it comes. I'm going to turn around and he's going to put the Darth Vader choke hold on me._

"I, uh, need to get your name… For the paperwork…"

"Right. Of course you do." Claire turned on her heel and carefully followed his movements as the villain sauntered behind the front counter, still studying the watch in his hand. He placed it on the glass display case long enough to grab a repair form from a side drawer. She paused for a moment wondering if she should attempt to make up the information or not. She firmly concluded though, that since he would be dead soon, by her hands no less, that she would be honest. It would be a lot easier than having to remember whatever lies she had told him and leave fewer opportunities for her to forget something important, jeopardizing the mission if he became suspicious.

"Claire Bennet," she spelled out for him. His hand twiddled out the information in unusually tidy scrawl for a male with graceful little flourishes at the ends of each letter.

"And your phone number? Um, just in case I need more time or something…" He kept his eyes firmly focused on the page before him with his head bowed so that she couldn't see his expression, but a telltale pink flushing came over the tops of his ears.

_Is he blushing?_ Claire made another foray into the depths of her purse for her cell phone. Normally she would have been able to recite her own number on command, but under the present circumstances her brain was reluctant to retrieve any information that didn't involve the immediate danger she was in. Her fingers brushed over the smooth surface of the gun again and she hesitated for a moment before putting the death grip on her phone. Once all of the appropriate information had been exchanged she had to forcefully stop herself from dashing for the door.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Bennet. I'm Gabriel Gray," he paused, extending his hand to shake hers. She managed to suppress a dry heave from the thought of having to touch his skin, especially voluntarily.

_The mission, Claire. The mission._ He was turning his head lightly at her again, and his ever expressive brow subtly raised in confusion over her apprehension. When he began to withdraw the offending hand she reached out and snatched it in her own. She shook awkwardly, his larger hand engulfing hers, and tried not to shudder.

The palm of his hand was noticeably rougher than the one she remembered holding her face in the Stanton hotel room while he strung her along on invisible puppet strings, forcing her to sip wine with him, explaining that someday she would love him. Maybe even be his First Lady. Claire couldn't stop the second shudder. "Yeah, nice to meet you too."

_Thank God he doesn't have his lie detector ability yet._ She swore that she could physically feel his eyes following her as she struggled to keep an even pace while exiting the store.

"Have a nice day," he called after her. Claire flinched and tossed what she hoped wouldn't be an obvious glare over her shoulder as she paused in the open doorway. He was already focusing his attentions on the watch again though, closing his eyes as he held the piece to his ear. His eyes snapped back open and the chill of the moment drove her the rest of the way through the door. The sounds of the little tinkling bell and the relentless ticks and tocks stuck with her like subconscious taunts as she nearly jogged down the block and around the corner to the Primatech van that waited just out of sight.

**To be continued...**


	2. Devil's Bargain

**Just a bit of backstory to help support the plot.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>2<strong>

**Devil's Bargain**

* * *

><p><em>November 26, 2010<em>

Claire approached the grand front door to the Petrelli mansion not quite sure of what she should be expecting. Her grandmother had left her several messages throughout the day citing urgent business but not leaving any clue as to what that pertained to. She had kept glancing down at her phone, distracted from her afternoon classes, and debated internally about whether she even wanted to respond to the requests for a meeting at all. It would be the first time seeing Angela face to face since Claire had learned about the horrifying details of Nathan's death, and… Just the thought of her late biological father's memories and consciousness being crammed into that monster's head was enough to fill her with deep-seated resentment all over again. She couldn't be sure which part of that half-baked scheme disgusted her more, the fact that they had gone to such extreme lengths to cover up Nathan's death even from her and Peter, or that she had unwittingly shown the man loving affection during that time.

But, she had reluctantly admitted to herself, with all things Angela related the matter had to be taken seriously. The door opened before she even had the opportunity to knock. "We've been expecting you, Ms. Bennet," the butler announced, promptly escorting her to the sitting parlor. _Of course you have_, she thought with an inner scoff.

"Claire, my dear, I'm glad you came," her grandmother declared from a stiff chair, a strong drink in one hand, and a framed photograph of Nathan in the other.

"Claire," Noah called, taking a step forward to embrace his daughter but stopping dead in his tracks when he was met by her withering glare. One very disgruntled looking Hiro Nakamura shuffled his feet behind Noah, offering only a courtesy bow in greeting. The time traveler wore a thin-lipped frown and long creases etched their way over his forehead in anxiety. She had known that this would not be a pleasant visit, but if the matters at hand were grave enough to convert such a normally jovial presence into one of deep worry perhaps the situation was worse than she had assumed.

"I have a business proposition for you," Angela started. "As you know, Sylar has returned, and Nathan is no longer with us." She glowered momentarily into the mouth of her glass when Claire audibly snorted. How could she forget? "I had a dream last night of the future… past… a future, past if you will. You were the one to kill Sylar while it could still be done."

"Where are you going with this, Angela?" Claire swept her fingers through her hair in irritation. She was in no mood to deal with the older woman's cryptic dreams and manipulations.

"Getting straight to the point I see." As she looked up with a sad little smile that crinkled the edges of her mouth, Claire noticed her red-rimmed glassy eyes. She had been crying and apparently grown too tired to cover up the evidence that still stained her gracefully wrinkled cheeks. "I want you to go back in time and kill Gabriel Gray before he has a chance to become Sylar. Mr. Nakamura, here," Hiro glanced at her with open disdain that she chose not to notice, "has agreed to take you back to a point before Chandra Suresh discovered his 'patient zero'. Sylar will not even know about abilities, the people who have them such as yourself, or that he possesses one."

"Why me?" she asked flippantly, rolling her eyes. Was it really too much to ask that she be allowed to spend one day of her life _not_ worrying about Sylar?

"Because you're his type, dear."

"_Excuse me_?" she hissed incredulously.

"The Sylar of this time line has a certain… fascination with you. I believe that the past version of himself may also be vulnerable to you. It would grant you more of a unique opportunity to get close enough to him to end the threat than anyone else would have. And besides, you're the only one that's managed to kill him so far." Angela and Hiro exchanged mutual glances of subdued hostility as she drained the remains of her drink so that the ice in the bottom of the glass clinked together. The time traveler had had his fair share of opportunities to end the menace himself, and while he was able to escape intact, his failures still managed to sting. Her grandmother leaned forward in her chair, holding Nathan's photo out in front of her. "Think about it, Claire. You could keep Sylar from hurting you, from killing your mother and your father, from murdering all of those innocent people. You could prevent it all. _You_ could save us." That was a low blow that had her gasping for air when she remembered how to do so.

How many times had she been so angry and frustrated because her ability allowed her to survive all of the tortures that she had endured, but had never offered her a way to fight back? How many times had she had to rely on being saved by others because she couldn't defend herself? How many of those times had resulted because of _Sylar_ or something he had done? There was a golden opportunity before her. One that would allow _her_ of all the heroes to save the day. One that she couldn't afford to waste.

The image of facing Sylar without his powers to defend himself against her came all too clearly. She could see herself so easily releasing all of her pent-up rage for the man and pulling the trigger, knowing that for once he would not simply get up afterward and laugh to spite her. It was a good feeling, bordering on euphoria.

"You don't have to do this, Claire. Not if you don't want to," Noah said calmly, stepping forward to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She shook him off with a deadly glare and turned back to Angela.

"I'll do it." Angela gave her a wicked smile in return that should have made her wonder exactly what kind of devil's bargain she had just signed.

"Now, Claire -" Noah made to replace his hand on her shoulder, wishing that she would put more time into thinking about such a quest. He couldn't make himself believe that manipulating his daughter into becoming a killer would ever possibly be a good idea, but she shook him away again with another heart-wrenching scowl.

"What do I have to do?" was all that she had to ask.

"We have a plan already in place. You're going to be transported to the nearest Hyatt hotel to the Queens location of your target. You'll book a room for yourself over the span of a month using a set of identifications that we have procured for you. Immediately afterward, you're going to call a private and secured line to Primatech requesting a meeting with your father. There will be a personally signed mission statement from myself to give to him explaining the situation and requesting his assistance. From there Noah will help you to make contact with Sylar, but it will be up to you to establish a connection to him that will grant you an opportunity to finish your mission."

"Why can't I just find him, kill him, and come back?"

Angela had smiled condescendingly with that question. "Because this isn't the movies, Claire. There are real world consequences to killing people. We wouldn't want you to come back to a future where you're wanted for murder now would we? And if nothing else, a little discretion makes the work easier for our clean-up crews." In other words, it would be less strenuous to have a specialist come remove her fingerprints from his blood-stained apartment than it would be to have the Haitian chase numerous people down for memory wipes if she just shot him point-blank in the street. _Great._

"Mrs. Petrelli, I am not so sure that this will be a good idea," Hiro timidly voiced his reservations through his thick accent.

"And what of Charlie, Mr. Nakamura? Do you no longer wish to see her again?" Hiro closed his mouth and returned to his uneasy stance, staring at the floor in weary contemplation.

"Remember, Claire. It's you're choice to do this. You can always back out," her father pitched again.

"I _want_ to do this. I want to make him pay for _everything_ he did to us. To _me_."

Claire had been provided with everything essential to the completion of the mission in a securely packaged duffel bag including: copies of all of Primatech's pertinent files on Sylar, several stacks of cash for whatever expenses she may face during her journey, a thin brown envelope with a full set of identifications, relevant contact information, the mission statement for her father, tracking devices, and an emergency code to use in the event that the plan should be aborted and she needed an urgent evacuation.

After Claire had packed another bag with her toiletries and a few sets of clothes to last until she had time to go shopping for more in the past, she declared herself ready to leave for her mission. "Here," Angela added, handing her Sylar's old broken wrist watch. "This should offer you a way in with him. We removed it from him after Nathan…" she couldn't quite make herself finish the thought. "You should ask him to fix it for you. It will be a convenient means of meeting for the first time."

She held the watch for several minutes, turning it over in her fingers and wondering exactly how many lives the object had seen taken. "Be careful, Claire Bear," her father had told her before she left with a strong hug that she couldn't move away from.

_February 6, 2006_

The first half of their plan had gone off without a hitch. Hiro teleported them to an alleyway that obscured their sudden appearance from passerby. He escorted her into the hotel, and made sure that she and her modest luggage found her room safely before preparing to depart.

"Hiro, wait," she called after him when he had started to make his trademark scrunchy face. "How will I get a hold of you when I'm ready to go home?" He pushed his glasses back up onto his nose and gave her a wide smile.

"Do not worry, Ms. Bennet. I will keep a careful eye on time for you." Hiro granted her one last courtesy bow and with a blink, vanished from sight.

Contacting the past version of her father had been the most difficult point of the entire adventure up until her first meeting with Sylar that afternoon. Claire had to constantly remind herself that he wasn't the same man partly responsible for the idiotic scheme that had been the catalyst for sending her there and that she really had no reason to be upset with him. Noah had promptly boarded a flight to New York from Texas after receiving her call. After so many years in his field of employment, he hadn't even been that surprised with her story about becoming a time traveling assassin; though he had more than put her through the ringer with every test imaginable to make sure that she wasn't some kind of impostor. He had been more amazed that she was no longer his sweet and innocent Claire Bear that he would reconnect with once he got home, but that the Claire in front of him was a grown woman, mature and strong. For a brief moment she had thought that she had caught a glimpse of a tear in the corner of his eye.

They had spent the first week of her time there doing reconnaissance work over the target and rehearsing the stages of her plan, and back-up plan, and the back-up plans for the damn back-up plan. Noah had also taken the time to drill her over the functions of her weapon and how to use it properly as well as basic self-defense maneuvers. Claire could have strangled the man for his anal retentive tendencies, but he had to be assured that she would be as safe as possible.

_February 13, 2006_

"You did just fine, Claire Bear," Noah said reassuringly once they were on their way back to her hotel from the Gray and Sons watch shop. Claire slumped her head into her hand and leaned against the cool glass of the Primatech van's tinted window with a heavy sigh. Of course he would say something like that even though she wasn't exactly the smooth agent that she had hoped to be that day. "We're ready to take him down at any time if you get into trouble," he added, smiling, misreading her disgruntled state. René quietly nodded in agreement from his perch behind the two front seats.

"And," her father turned a knowing but compassionate look towards her, "if you ever think that you might not be able to go through with it, I can take over. Just say the word, and I'll be there to finish it for you." She had no illusions about what that meant. _Oh, I'll be able to do it alright._

_I'll do it._ She repeated those words to herself as she watched the streets of New York pass by through the window of the van. They were the three little words that for better or worse would change the world. Claire bade her father and René good-bye after the van had entered the rear parking area of the hotel and made her way to her room. Once inside she made herself comfortable at the table with the revolver, pouring her attentions over Sylar's file again. "_Boom_," she whispered to herself, aiming the gun at the wall in front of her and pretending to fire it.

Gabriel adjusted his glasses to more clearly see the parts spread over the table before him and tilted his work lamp just a bit closer. He held the two seemingly identical watches out for comparison noting some minuscule difference that only he would be able to discern. "Of course, why didn't I think of that?" he asked himself in the silence of the shop. He had already repaired the Sylar watch that Claire had brought him that afternoon, and then used its working pieces to help guide him on how to fix his own replica. Pushing the last tiny wheel into place, Gabriel excitedly observed the two time keepers tick away in perfect unison.

**To be continued...**


	3. Ladies Man

**3**

**Ladies Man**

* * *

><p><em>February 14, 2006 - 30 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

"I still don't understand why I can't just kill him and get it over with."

"Claire," Noah sighed, pulling his glasses off to wipe them clean, "we've been over this. Whether he's taken any powers yet or not, we know that his ability has already manifested. And if his files that you brought back mean _anything,_ he's more than capable of being extremely dangerous -"

"So we kill him already!"

"Claire." He kept his tone even but she could tell that he was beginning to lose his patience. "Gabriel Gray is a very intelligent individual. All of his psychological analysis indicates that he's also hyperaware of his surroundings and the actions of others. With his background we can safely assume that he's naturally suspicious -"

"In other words, he's paranoid. _I_ could have told you that much." She let her head slump against the glass of the Primatech van, her mind drifting to past experiences. Her father knew the appropriate details about Sylar and the things that he had done, including the opening of her skull so that he could take her ability for himself, but she could feel that he also knew there were certain things that hadn't been documented. Thankfully Noah didn't ask many questions. He seemed to sense that it was painful enough to relive in her own memories without sharing and left it alone.

"If we make our move too soon there is a good chance that he would pick up on it and lash out. And I'm not going to put you in harm's way like that. We're going to follow the plan that Angela set up. You'll get close to him and earn his trust so that he doesn't suspect a thing. Once he's a little more… _predictable_ for us, we'll finish it."

"Whatever," she mumbled sullenly cracking the van door open. René leaned forward from his perch behind them to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. The Haitian gave her a nod of reassurance which Claire returned with a faint sad smile and jumped out. Once the door had slammed shut and she was on her way up the block he climbed into the front seat watching after her for a moment.

"Are you going tell her about Angela's plans, or are we just following orders for now?"

Noah sighed heavily and slumped back into his seat, replacing his glasses. "The less she knows right now, the better. We have to keep her focused, and that means… following orders." The Haitian looked back through the window to where their young charge had last been visibly walking.

"This isn't going to end well."

* * *

><p>Gabriel Gray had been pacing somewhat anxiously through the shop while expecting the arrival of his newest client. When a flash of blonde hair caught his attention from the corner of his eye, he looked towards the shop window to see her marching past it determinedly. He hesitated for a brief moment, wringing his hands over the decision of whether to stay and greet her, or dash for his back room workstation. At the last second he darted for the back, not wanting to appear as though he had been waiting specifically for her all afternoon though that notion may have been more true than he wanted to admit to himself.<p>

Claire cracked the shop door open to peek her head inside, flinching when the little bell overhead announced her presence unexpectedly. _So much for the element of surprise. _Ticks and tocks greeted her through the silence much as they had the previous day and she found the underlying stillness unnerving. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow in search of the demon that inhabited the store, her hand clenched tightly over the purse containing her gun until her knuckles bruised white.

Gabriel leaned into the door frame of his workroom listening to her steady movements around the front and released the breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. Taking a bold and confident step out, he greeted the girl with a simple, "Hello."

She nearly left her skin behind when she jumped backward at the sudden interruption in the peace. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears as she stuttered out a habitual, "Hello," in return. They stood there awkwardly staring at one another for a brief moment, neither quite able to figure out a next move.

"I'm sorry I -"

"I came back for the -" They both began to speak at the same time so that their voices overlapped one another. A second prolonged quiet pause accented the air as he studied her wide-eyed expression of surprise laced with just a touch of fear, and she shifted her stance uncomfortably trying to look anywhere but directly back at him.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," Gabriel apologized quietly, jamming his hands into his pockets.

"You didn't," Claire proclaimed obstinately. She had to use a good bit of force to keep from scowling at him bitterly as he quirked his head to the side in another attempt to read her. "I came back for the watch."

"Um, right." Gabriel blinked and turned back to the entrance of his work area, hesitating for a split second too long. Claire felt her fingers start to slide into her purse, ready to pull out the revolver if he made an unexpected move. He disappeared behind the frame and she took a few ginger steps in the same direction to follow without even thinking about where her feet were potentially leading her.

Gabriel glanced over to his table where the two Sylar watches were ready for presentation, both in perfect working order, tick, tick, ticking away in timed sync with one another. With a rushed decision he moved away from the table and instead made for the little bathroom off to the side, stopping in front of the mirror to neatly comb a few stray hairs back into place before returning to the store front. The awkward counterparts almost collided with one another when he reappeared, sending Claire stumbling backwards. Gabriel thoughtlessly reacted to catch her before she could fall, taking hold of her arm to pull her back so that her balance overcorrected. Instead of being replaced in her original position, she fell forward into him, instinctively reaching out for the stability of his shoulders.

In reality they were only in direct contact for a heart's beat length of time, but it was long enough for her to look up at him in stark terror, and for his eyes to widen in shock before they quickly detached themselves. Gabriel stammered another rushed apology and stalked away to the front counter in search of a familiar position of control over the embarrassing situation. Claire was left behind to openly gawk at his retreating form before she remembered herself and composed her features.

"Um, the watch?" she asked with what she had hoped would be a critical confidence while she was subconsciously wrapping her arms around herself for security after the violation of her personal space and dignity.

"The watch?" Gabriel's brow line lifted absent-mindedly when he was suddenly reminded of the business at stake. "Right," he drummed his fingers on the glass of the counter much to Claire's irritation. "Your watch, I, um, didn't have as much time to get to it as I thought I would."

_Real smooth, Gabriel. A girl like that isn't going to believe that someone like you has a life. You're an idiot for dragging this out. It's not like she's going to give you another thought after she gets what she wants anyways._

He watched her facial expressions morph from the façade of self-righteous superiority into some convoluted mixture of disgruntled surprise and bitter disappointment, to flat anger, and then back to a composed air of confidence that was all too easy to see through. He doubted that she even registered her own emotional revolutions as clearly as he did. There was something out of place about her, an obvious unease that was both intimidating, and screaming of fear at the same time. Quickly working through her cultivated demeanor and attitude in conjunction with the wariness of her eyes and reactions to his every motion as well as her open repulsion to any form of touch, a dawning of understanding came over him. Gabriel inwardly cursed himself for not seeing it before. The girl, this Claire, was some kind of trauma victim. She was clearly working through issues that had left her a bit broken, and there he was practically hitting on her.

_Great. Not only is she out of your league and probably jail bait, but you're setting yourself up to take advantage of her while she's damaged and vulnerable. Pervert._

He couldn't exactly go back to get the watch for her after saying that it wasn't finished though. _She's staring at you like you're a moron. Say something already. _Gabriel wasn't sure how long he had spent musing, but it was apparently enough time for Claire to start studying him through narrowed eyes like he was some species of disgusting insect on the slide of a microscope. "I'll have it done for you first thing tomorrow morning," he promised, quietly ignoring her lapse of composure when she snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, then. I guess I'll be back tomorrow." Claire started for the door but lingered just short of exiting, staring up at the little bell in distaste. She was biting her lower lip in deep thought about something and he wasn't entirely sure if it would be more rude to wish her a good day, inadvertently ushering her out the door that much quicker, or to just slink away to the protection of his workroom and leave her there to her ponderings. So he just stood there indecisively, feeling trapped by her continued presence.

"Would you like to go out sometime?" she asked while purposely avoiding his eyes and attempting to mask revulsion over the idea, bile rising in the back of her throat.

Had he been taking a drink of something at the time, Gabriel was more than sure he would have been forced to either spit it out or choke on it. He had intended to extend his possession of her wrist watch in order to see her again, hers being the youngest and undoubtedly most attractive face that had visited the shop in years, but never in his wildest dreams imagined taking it farther than that. "Excuse me?" He shook his head to clear the rush of adrenaline that had entered his system wondering if he had heard her correctly and not accidentally fallen into some fantastic day dream.

Claire shuddered, swallowing hard, and repressing the urge to either vomit or shoot him on the spot. Surely he was purposefully making her ask such a ridiculous question a second time as torture. "Would you like to go out sometime?" she repeated, clearly enunciating each word with a snobbish tone.

"With you?" He felt a resounding need for clarification in the face of the impossible. She couldn't actually be interested in him. He was sure of that. And he had heard far more than his fair share of taunts and cruel jokes from girls like her before. "Like a date?" he stuttered.

"Yeah?" she answered in agitation, her temper starting to flare. _I'm going to kill him. I'm going to flipping kill him right now. _If it wasn't for the memory of her exasperated father telling her not to do so that flickered at that specific time she may have actually gone through with the act. But she was under direct orders to do otherwise. _The mission, Claire. The mission, _she forcefully reminded herself.

Warning signals started flashing in Gabriel's mind. _This can't be right._ "Sorry, but I have to ask… How old are you?" He took in her youthful appearance again from the slightly juvenile fashion sense of her clothing to the innocent air about her. Despite her hard-nosed mentality, there was a clear lack of guile that years of age and experience would have placed there. It was all too easy to imagine her as some spoiled Manhattan teenager that had run away from home and gone in search of a "sugar daddy" to take care of her or piss her parents off. Maybe even a young con artist looking for an easy score to laugh about later. _I must have "sucker" stamped on my forehead._

Claire instantly detected the suggestion behind his question. She knew she would never hear the end of that particular inquiry since she was doomed to remain more or less unchanging from the time her ability had manifested, perpetually sixteen for all the days of her inevitably, unnaturally long life, but it never ceased to incense her. "I'm nineteen," she declared all but a single decibel in volume from shouting at him.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed suspiciously. For a moment she felt a pang of dread creep up in her gut that he was on to her. A mental image of Sylar flicking his wrist to send her crashing into a wall so that he could cut her open all over again made her wince, gripping her purse tightly so that she wouldn't lose the opportunity to take a shot at him if he did.

Instead he replied, "I _don't_ have any _money_," in a flat voice that had her furrowing her brows in confusion. And then she caught on to the meaning of the statement.

"I don't remember _asking_ you about _money_," she hissed, stinging from the insult. _I can't believe this. First, he's asking me about my age like he ever had a problem with it before, and now he's calling me a damn gold digger. What an ass. Wait… Why am I insulted over this? I don't care what he thinks._

"Look, I don't know what you're after, but I'm not biting. I'll have your watch for you tomorrow like I said." Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest to provide himself an emotional barrier from being rejected or taken advantage of.

"What? You… Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just _maybe,_ I wanted to ask you because you seem like a nice guy?" her hands flew up in the air in frustration. _Not._ "Or that I could _actually_ want to get to know you because I think you're interesting… or _something?_" _Lie._

Gabriel's defenses deflated even though his hackles were raised and his muscles were tensed to carry on the argument from her abrasive attack. "I -" he started, stumbling for the right words to comeback at her with. "I -" he grunted in resignation, letting his knuckles fall to the glass of the counter with a loud clacking sound. "I'm sorry," he conceded, the flush from his own temper fading away. "I just - I don't…" He made a low throaty noise as he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "I guess I just ruined it." _Good going, Gabriel. If she was interested before, she sure isn't now. You really have a way with the ladies, don't you?_

He looked up at her, and even though his eyes were not the hardened shark-like orbs of the serial killer she remembered, without his glasses the likeness to that monster had her taking a step back. The chorus of ticks and tocks supplied the pregnant pause with something to listen to while she rattled around in her own head for something to say that wasn't a scream or obscenity. _The mission, Claire. The mission. _That mantra seemed to be the only thing keeping her from fleeing or dealing with later consequences for dropping him where he stood. She breathed a sigh of relief, the image of lodging a bullet square between the eyes of her personal tormentor becoming a macabre refresher for her confidence.

"No you didn't," she smiled with saccharine sweetness. And then he smirked at her. Maybe it wasn't the vicious expression of the Sylar that had gloated about killing her father, but it was a familiar smirk all the same serving to bring back the heat of rage to her face.

"Okay, um." He missed out on the contemptuous glare she couldn't help shooting at him by looking down and running a distracted hand through his hair. "If you still want to, go out I mean, I'm uh, free I guess." He peeked up at her hesitantly.

"Tonight. At 7:00. I'll meet you here," she directed, seizing the opportunity to take charge. Claire didn't even wait for his agreement. She turned on her heel and exited through the door, gritting her teeth over the tinkle of the bell, and marched back to the Primatech van holding Noah and the Haitian with a smug grin of impending victory on her lips. _I take that back. First, I'm going to rip out that stupid bell, and _then_ I'm going to kill him._

Gabriel remained at the counter with his jaw hanging open, watching her flit past the shop window absolutely flustered and trying to wrap his mind around what had just transpired_. _

**To be continued...**


	4. First Date: Part I

**4**

**First Date: Part I**

* * *

><p><em>February 14, 2006 - 30 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

"You asked him out… On a date?" Claire had expected her father to hate the idea and force her to call it off, or at least that was what she_ hoped_ he would do. But instead Noah disappointed her by taking a few minutes to mull it over before declaring, "That was a smart move, Claire Bear. I'm proud of you for being able to think on your feet that way." He reached over to tussle her hair like he had done when she was a child, which in his eyes she suspected she still seemed that way. "I'll admit, I had my doubts about you becoming a Company girl, but," the grin on his lips spread from ear to ear, "you're going to be a good agent yet. You were assigned to get close to your target, and you found a way to do it."

However, the balance of amusement was quickly tipped in her favor after she had announced that a shopping trip was in order. None of the clothing that she had previously packed for her trip through time and space included anything beyond the realm of jeans and t-shirts. Not exactly "date" worthy attire when the goal revolved around an undercover operation. If she was going to play the part, logic dictated that she would have to look it as well.

And, if nothing else, there was something deliciously vindictive about her father having to wait outside of a department store dressing room with René holding her purse as she tried on outfit after outfit for well over an hour, muttering darkly about having been able to "bag and tag" a multiplier by the time she got out of there. Finally, she settled on a sleek olive-green dress that was elegant enough to pass for a more formal setting, but also bordering on the realm of casual; more because she wanted it for herself than actually caring about what her target would appreciate. Stepping out of the dressing room and doing a little twirl to gather her accomplices' opinions garnered more attention than was necessary from a passing male shopper whom had turned to look shortly before walking straight into a rack of hanging suit jackets. The Haitian shot a fiercely intimidating glare after the poor embarrassed fellow while Noah grunted in distaste.

"No. Absolutely not, Claire. I am not letting my daughter walk around in public like that. No."

She turned to a neighboring set of mirrors to more carefully examine her selection, attempting to determine what was apparently so ghastly about the garment. The hem of the dress was knee-length, hardly inappropriate. There wasn't any cleavage exposure, and the shoulder straps were quite thick instead of some spindly little scraps of fabric that suggested their function was more to be removed than observed. Overall, with the exception of the wonderfully flattering cut that portrayed her feminine curves well, it was a rather conservative number.

"What about this? This is nice." Noah held out a thick, wooly, dark gray pant suit that appeared to her as if it could have come from the very back of her late grandmother's closet. She ignored René's vehement nod of approval for her father's selection.

"I'm getting this one."

"No," Noah shook his head obstinately. "No. No. No. Absolutely not." Ten minutes later they disembarked from the store with Claire's new dress in tow.

* * *

><p>Claire had opted to leave her hair down in a gracefully straight style as sleek as her dress and started to apply makeup as she normally would, but once she remembered the person she would be dealing with, that action was abruptly halted. Memories of the Stanton came rushing back to her, feeling his hand on her face and sniffing her hair all over again. A violent cringe shuddered throughout her entire body. Surely it would be alright to appear as though she were taking the evening seriously without truly putting effort into it. <em>Just breathe, Claire. Play it cool and smooth like James Bond or something, and… Oh God. Don't say anything like that out loud.<em>

"This should be a good opportunity to bug him tonight," Noah grunted from the driver's seat of the Primatech van.

"I'm pretty sure we annoy each other enough as it is."

"No, I mean _bug_ him," he rolled his eyes at her as if his point should have been obvious. "While you're gone we'll set up a couple of cameras in the shop and his apartment. Maybe get a phone tap. And this little beauty here," he held up a discrete looking plastic tracking device smaller than a pencil eraser, "I want you to stick on _him_."

"Where?" she asked timidly with just a small hint of fear.

"His coat should be good enough I think."

"What if he goes somewhere without it? Or wears a different one?"

"Claire, it's February in New York. He's not going anywhere without a coat. And we've been watching him for a week now and he's only worn the one." Claire held up the tracking device between her thumb and forefinger so that she could see it more clearly under the passing street lights. _Boogeyman LoJack. Awesome._

Gabriel found himself pacing back and forth in deep anxiety. He had started to wait outside of his shop but the freezing winter air forced him back in after only a few minutes. Then he found himself in a quandary as to whether he should be working when or _if_ Claire arrived instead of just waiting around for her, having already been doing so for nearly an hour in the event that she came early.

_Where are we supposed to go? What are we going to do when we get there? What if this is just a joke and she's not actually coming? _He glanced down at his watch and saw the minute hand click over to the 7:01 position. Wringing his hands in nervous anticipation, he started wearing a path in the already strained carpet again. _Maybe I should call her and say that I'm sick or something… No. She might already be on the way here. Just don't trip and fall on your face. Or snort when you laugh… if you find anything to laugh about. What if I do something to make her start laughing at me? Calm down. Breathe. Play it cool and smooth like Captain Kirk, and… Oh God. Don't say _anything_ like that out loud. _He heaved a heavy sigh when the minute hand flickered over to 7:02. And then a flash of blonde hair caught his attention from the window.

Claire came through the door with only a brief moment of hesitation, each entrance becoming easier. The bell that tinkled noisily to announce her arrival however, remained a jarring disturbance causing her to flinch even though she had come to expect it. "Sy-Gabriel?" Glancing around the interior of the shop revealed nothing of his presence to her. _All the lights are on, and the door was unlocked… I know he's here somewhere._

She carefully tiptoed towards the doorway that separated the sales floor from the workroom completely unaware that he had made a dash for the bathroom to hyperventilate in private. _Breathe, Gabriel. Breathe, _he chided himself, splashing cold water on his face and rushing to comb his hair back into some semblance of order.

"Gabriel?" she called for him again. A resounding bang and metallic crashing sound answered her when he accidentally stumbled into a tool case in his haste to appear, spilling spare parts everywhere. Claire dipped her hand into her purse, fingers slipping around the smooth handle of the revolver hidden there and prepared to draw the weapon for use.

"Hello," he stuttered, slightly out of breath as he popped out of the doorway. His sudden entrance startled her and the hand that had been previously clutching the firearm withdrew to palm her chest where her heart had gone into a fresh round of erratic spasms. While she recovered from the scare, Claire took in his wide-eyed expression of shock. _Why does he look like he's been caught doing something wrong? Note to self: snoop around the back later…_

"Hello," she politely answered through only slightly gritted teeth, mustering a faint smile. Gabriel swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away from her before his eyes could wander too far and betray him, but that didn't help to stop the telltale blush that crept over him. As if already having the ability to intimidate the hell right out of him and turn him into a bumbling idiot weren't enough, the thought of her possibly bringing that curvy little body any closer transformed Claire into a full-blown terror. _Do I get to kiss her later?_

"So, um… Where did you want to go tonight?" he asked a bit timidly as they stepped out into the frosty air together.

Claire, having been preoccupied with warily watching his every movement stopped dead in her tracks. She had no idea. She cursed herself internally for a moment for looking over such a large piece of the picture after spending all of her energy covering minute details. "…I think… dinner and a movie are… standard for a… _first date_?"

"I guess so," Gabriel mumbled, jamming his hands into his pockets, more to keep from blatantly fidgeting than to avoid the cold.

"What do you usually do?" She watched as he slumped his shoulders and cast a downward glance to his shoes, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and chewing on the inside of his lip as he carefully thought that over.

"I, uh… I don't know." He lifted his eyes to meet hers with a sheepish half-smile. "I don't really get out very often. What do you usually do?"

"I don't really get out very often either." _Not in a romantic way at least. Mostly because of getting hunted, and trying to save the world, and… _you_. _Claire may not have spoken her more revealing thoughts aloud, but Gabriel had quickly picked up on the blunt honestly in her blurted words. He was quirking his head at her again, analyzing the details of her facial expression, and maybe covertly slipping in a sideways peek at her figure where her coat was draped open.

"I find _that_ hard to believe." She snapped her eyes to his and attempted to extinguish the traces of worry there. "I mean, you must have guys falling all over you." _Guys better than me anyways._

_Well, there was Brody. But he tried to rape me, accidentally killed me, and then dumped my body. And there was West, but he kind of freaked out because my dad had him kidnapped and experimented on. And then there was Alex, but once again with the chasing and the hunting…_ She sighed heavily. "Not really." Somehow, beyond her own understanding they found themselves sharing a quiet mutual chuckle at their own expense.

"Dinner and a movie it is then."

A particularly obnoxious and smug waiter escorted them to a quiet table at the little Italian restaurant that Gabriel had meekly suggested as having the "best darn mushroom ravioli in the world". Claire cleared her throat uncomfortably when the waiter's eyes lingered on her for an obscenely long moment after she removed her coat and exposed the full effect of her dress to the men. Gabriel however, failed to notice the impropriety as he was in the action of chivalrously pulling her chair out for her as well as carefully avoiding his own visual admirations.

"What can I get you _lovely_ folks to drink tonight?" the waiter asked, maintaining contact with Claire for the duration of his inquiry, and then unenthusiastically swiveling his gaze to Gabriel.

"I'll just have a tea please."

"And for your… sister?"

"I'm _not _his sister," Claire corrected in a tone snobbish enough to counter the rude man. "And I'll have a tea too."

"You look really nice tonight," Gabriel offered once their server had disappeared with their orders. "Not that you don't look nice at other times..." He let out a nearly imperceptible puff of air and turned his face towards the table to hide the fresh blush gracing his cheeks.

"Thanks," she mumbled. _I think? "_You, um… You look okay too." _Too bad you had to start killing people to discover hair gel. _He had thankfully left his sweater vests behind for the night, but he still managed to appear as though his mother had dressed him, stiff collar and all. Awkward silence passed between them as they both seemed to find something interesting to look at in their laps.

"So," he started in an effort to find conversation, "did you move to New York recently, or are you just visiting?"

"Huh?" Claire looked up at him in surprise, her pulse steadily increasing pace.

"Your accent," he explained quietly and gestured half-heartedly in the direction of his throat to indicate a voice. "You're not from here. If I had to guess, I'd say somewhere in the south."

"Texas," she admitted, wondering exactly how much information he was gathering about her from observations of that nature.

"Oh." He raised his eyebrows to convey interest. "What brings you here all the way from the Lone Star state?"

"Business."

He nodded in understanding. "What do you do? Like, 'business' wise?"

_Nosy much? _"I, um… I work for a paper company." _If it was a good enough cover for Dad, it's good enough for me._

"That must be interesting," he stated with his tone steadily climbing in pitch so that it sounded more like a question in his uncertainty.

"Yeah," she agreed after giving it some thought. "It really is. Speaking of, um, would you excuse me for a minute? I need to make a call." Claire grabbed her cell phone from her purse and headed for the lady's room, grateful for any reason to get away for a moment.

"Dad?" she called once she had gotten into the restroom and locked a stall door behind her. "Did you get all the _stuff_ taken care of yet?"

"We got a couple of cameras into the shop, but we ran into some… unexpected difficulties at the apartment."

"Like what?"

"Apparently Sylar's mother is still doing his laundry." _I knew it! _"She was already there when we showed up so we couldn't get in." Claire could almost hear the impish smile spread across his face. "How's the _date_ going?" he asked in an openly mocking manner.

"He's asking a _lot_ of questions."

"Like what? You think he suspects you?"

"I don't know! Like my age. Where I'm from. What I do for a living…"

"Claire, I think people call that _getting to know each other_. I would be more worried if a guy like him _wasn't_ asking those kinds of questions… What _did_ you tell him you do for a living?"

"Paper company, duh."

Gabriel couldn't be sure exactly what it was that made him do it. He tried to convince himself that he was just concerned about the pesky little age issue; that he didn't want to take advantage of a girl that wasn't old enough to know any better, or get in trouble for it later. But that wasn't it. Not really. There was just something _off_ about Claire.

She was a little strange for sure, and maybe a bit on the emotional side of things, but that couldn't explain why a woman like her, that _looked_ like her, would lack in the romantic experience department. And it certainly couldn't explain why she would ever take an interest in _him_. Hell, not even their _waiter_ had believed it. He tried desperately hard not to think about the way the color of her dress made her eyes shine, or how the delicate fabric clung to her thighs and almost hypnotically swayed with her hips as she walked away… And there was the way that she had left her hair down and neglected cosmetics for a nice natural look. He liked that. It made it all seem more _real_ somehow.

_Baseball. Cold showers. Kittens._

Perhaps it all went back to some form of post-traumatic stress. Gabriel had been very cautious about keeping his hands to himself and where she could see them, not making sudden or unexpected movements that would scare her because she always seemed like she was ready to bolt at the drop of a hat. If she was a victim of some terrible event then he expected that delving into the dating realm would be difficult. Maybe she chose him because he seemed like a safe alternative. He knew only too well that there wasn't a thing about him that screamed _dangerous_, or even whispered it for that matter. He didn't dare to hope that it would work out and that one day she might open up to him about it all.

But even when taking in her little quirks that he had begun to learn and discounting her unapproachable affliction, not everything added up as neatly as he wanted it to. Sometimes she took a few seconds too long to answer simple questions like she had to create information on the spot that she should have already known. And for that matter, what kind of job for a _paper company_ sends a girl like her on a business trip from Texas to New York? His brain repeatedly failed to arrange all of Claire's details into an order that made sense so he found himself doing something that he instantly felt shame for even thinking about.

Gabriel waited until she had entered the restroom and grabbed her purse from where she had left it on the chair opposite him. He retrieved her billfold and cracked it open to search for identification. A white business card slipped out for a Primatech Paper Co. and he immediately felt embarrassed for himself that he had ever doubted her… Until the glare of her _New York _driver's license snagged his line of sight. _Carrie Anne Butler, age twenty-one... What? So much for being Claire Bennet, nineteen, and from Texas. _

He hurriedly replaced everything in its original resting position in the wallet and made to deposit the leather container back into her handbag when another more disturbing item caught his attention. There was a polished and shining revolver tucked into the side with all six shots loaded. Gabriel swallowed hard around the cottony knot that threatened to choke off his airway, suddenly finding himself alone with a complete stranger that was armed and potentially unstable.

**To be continued...**


	5. First Date: Part II

**5**

**First Date: Part II**

* * *

><p><em>February 14, 2006 - 30 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

Claire was returning to their table after her phone call to her father, happy to see that the food had arrived, but Gabriel was standing edgily behind his chair with the look of a man ready to rabbit. He seemed to be caught in limbo for a moment, unable to decide whether to stay or bolt for the door before he caught sight of her and nearly jumped out of skin. "Something wrong?"

"Uh… no? Nothing's wrong at all. Everything is just fine, and normal, and fine." Gabriel plastered an uneasy smile to his face and sat down again, never taking his eyes off of her.

_Weirdo._ "So… You're a watchmaker." Claire assumed that it was her turn to play Q and A, but wasn't entirely sure where to start since she already knew quite a bit about the man; even if _he_ wasn't supposed to know that.

"An Horologist, yes," he quietly relented, pushing his dinner around his plate without taking a bite.

"How does someone get started in a field like that?"

Gabriel lost his sense of perfect posture, allowing himself to slouch back into his chair with slumped shoulders. "I guess I've always had a talent for fixing things and figuring out how stuff works." A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth while he thought about it for a moment. "At one time I actually wanted to go school for engineering, but… Gray and Sons belonged to my father originally, and Harvey, the old guy that my mother hired to run the place, had to retire because he couldn't work with the smaller pieces anymore." His faint little smile dropped away, leaving a grim expression behind and something akin to mild anger or irritability in his eyes. "The shop was the family's only real way of making any money so I had to drop out after my first year and come back to take care of things. Been there ever since," he added with a disgruntled sigh.

"What happened to your dad?"

He looked up at her from under his heavy brow line, drumming his fingers on the table, and looking more like Sylar than he had since Claire began her journey through time. She hitched her breath, staring into the abyss of eyes that had been transformed from warm and vulnerable to cold and distant. "He walked out on us. When I was a kid. The old going out for a pack of smokes and never coming back routine."

There was something that Claire _hadn't_ known about. She knew from the Company files that Gabriel Gray had been sold by his biological father as a small child to his adoptive family, shortly before murdering his biological mother right in front of him. And she remembered very clearly that he had told her meeting his biological father was "disappointment", but learning that even his adopted dad had just… _abandoned_ him like that… It all started to paint a very real picture for her as to why Sylar was the way he was. She wanted to say something, _anything_, but the words wouldn't come.

They both sat there in tense silence, idly playing with their food, and wishing that they could be anywhere but where they were. "The exciting world of paper, huh? How did you get into that?"

"My father, actually. He's a… Company man. And now I'm a Company girl."

Gabriel smirked at her in that familiar way that made her trigger finger itch. "I am curious why a paper manufacturer in Texas would send," _a girl like you, "_someone all the way to New York on business. You must have an important job."

Claire narrowed her eyes at him. _Is he seriously testing me? _"Public relations. I find clientele and bring them in." The half-truths slipped off her tongue with a startling amount of ease.

"And you have a new client here in the city?"

"He's not exactly _new_, but he is… tricky. Difficult to keep a hold of."

"I'm sure." Gabriel leaned forward in his chair, planting his elbows on the table, and resting his chin on his clasped hands. His eyes burned deep into hers as though he were attempting to see right through her. The air between them took on a hint of challenge. "I've never been to Texas. Tell me what that's like, Carrie."

"Well, the country can be pretty…" _Hold up. _"Did you just call me, Carrie?"

"That _is_ your name, isn't it? Carrie Anne Butler?"

_Busted_. "My name is -"

"And how are you two doing?" Their waiter returned at the most inopportune time. "Can I get you or your… niece anything else this evening?" he asked while blatantly staring at her chest.

"I am _not_ his niece," Claire ground out in clear agitation. _We cleared that little controversy up months ago._

"I apologize, your _friend_?"

"I am _not_ his sister, his niece, his friend, his cousin, or anything _else_ that you can think up. If you would _stop_ staring at my chest for a minute, you might notice that I _am_ his _date_."

The waiter immediately drew up his eyes and stuttered soundlessly, completely flabbergasted that he had been called out on his behavior. "I'm - I'm really, very sorry, ma'am. Can I get you guys anything?"

"No!" they both shouted at the same time, causing other couples to glance over curiously as their server disappeared for the rest of the night.

"My name is Claire Bennet," she hissed low over the table when their personal standoff resumed.

"That's funny because that's not what your driver's license says," Gabriel accused back, leaning over so that they were directly at eye level with one another.

"What? What the _hell_ were you doing looking at my driver's license?"

"You were acting suspicious -"

"You're the one snooping through my purse and _I'm_ suspicious? What kind of creep are you?" _The serial killing, parent murdering, slimy stalking, make my life a living hell kind!_

"Just tell me you're not from the government."

"Wha -"

"I _swear_ I only forgot to pay my taxes that _one _time!"

"…You… You think I'm with the _IRS_?"

"The fake name, the gun, the acting weird like you're hiding something. It all makes sense now… Why are you laughing? What's so funny?"

Claire couldn't help herself. She cracked up into a fit of hysterics. _Oh my God… He went snooping through my purse, and found out about my I.D. and gun, and he thinks I'm with the IRS? Oh jeez. I thought I was so screwed, but this is great!_

"It's a fake I.D.," she giggled, pulling her New York driver's license from her wallet to show him again. "I'm underage so I got it to buy alcohol with." _How's that for thinking on your feet?_

"What about the gun?" he asked incredulously, still perturbed about the whole situation.

"Hello? Single woman living alone in the big city? What if I get mugged, or attacked by rapists… Or have some guy that I asked out to dinner creeping through my personal stuff?" She watched with no small amount of glee as his temper quickly melted into embarrassed shame. "I need some way to defend myself, don't I?"

"I - I'm…" he sunk his forehead to the table with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm sorry, Claire." _You just can't help screwing up a good deal, can you? This is why we can't have nice things…_

"You know what? Forget about it. Just forget about the whole thing." Claire got up from the table and stormed off knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist chasing her down. She could easily lure him into a dark alley somewhere and go back to her father with a story about how he had attacked her so she had no choice but to complete the mission. And then she could go home and spend time with her bio-parents, really getting to know them having been able to prevent their premature deaths at the hands of a psycho killer.

Gabriel felt her leave and looked up just as she was exiting through the door. He deliberated for a minute, wanting to chase after her to apologize for being an idiot, but figuring that she wouldn't want to hear it. After all, she had told him to "forget about the whole thing". But she had left her coat on the back of the chair, and there he found a solid excuse. Freudian slip aside, it was freezing outside, and surely she would tolerate his continued presence long enough to accept the protective clothing. Hurriedly, he tossed a few bills onto the table to cover the costs of their forgotten dinners and snatched the coat, bolting for the door.

_Three... Two... One..._ Claire felt her own smirk lift the corner of her mouth when she heard him following after her. Gabriel _or_ Sylar, he wouldn't be able to keep from a pursuit. "Claire! Wait!"

She paused on the corner a few store fronts down and next to her intended alley that she had spotted on the way to the restaurant, turning on a heel to glance back at him. "Claire, I'm sorry," he huffed, just a bit breathless from jogging the distance between them. He meant to go on but was interrupted by the high-pitched trilling of his cell phone. Annoyed, he plucked the phone from his pocket and sighed at the name flashing on the caller I.D. "Sorry, I have to take this," he mumbled.

"Mom? No, I'm fine. I just haven't made it home yet… Because I went out… Yes, _out_… Cat food? Alright…"

Claire rolled her eyes and made to stalk off again. She rounded the corner intending to slink into the shadows and wait for her unsuspecting victim, however, fate seemed to have other plans. A pair of rough calloused hands reached out from the darkness to cover her mouth and pull her from the view of the street.

"I _can't_ bring it over right now… Because I'm kind of on a _date_… Yes, she's pretty… I don't know if she's Catholic…" Gabriel looked down the walkway where Claire had been heading, except she was no longer visible. He spun around trying to locate the head of blonde hair and shapely body that he had been steadily memorizing the details of, but to no avail. It was like she had just vanished from thin air. Still clutching her coat in his free hand, a knot of worry started building in his gut. His senses practically screamed that something didn't add up, that something was terribly wrong.

"Mom, I gotta - I gotta go. Yes, I'll talk to you later… Yes, I'll remember the cat food… Mom! I have to go!" Following his intuition, he sprinted in the direction that seemed most likely for her to have gone and he didn't stop until a low growling voice grabbed his attention.

"A little girly like you shouldn't be walking around at night dressed like that unless you're looking for a good time. You looking for a good time, girly?" Claire was pinned against the wall of the building next door with a hand wrapped harshly around her throat as a back street cretin pillaged through her bag for money and valuables.

"Hey!" If she could have had access to oxygen just then, she would have gasped in relief. For the first time in her life, Claire was actually happy to hear that damn voice. Gabriel fumbled his way onto the scene, eyes wide with surprise, and palms jutting outward to placate her attacker. "We don't want any trouble…"

His distraction granted her the time to execute a defensive maneuver her father had taught her, bringing her arm around to elbow the offensive appendage holding her in place. The mugger released his grip enough that she was able to land a kick to his shin and wriggle away. Claire darted after her gun that had spilled from her purse when her "date" showed up unexpectedly and whipped the weapon around just in time to see Gabriel colliding against her attacker's face with a clenched fist.

He bent over in pain, covering his nose with his hands, eyes watering and a subtle _drip, drip_ of blood leaking from the wound. Gabriel gave the other man a wide berth as he moved to Claire's side, positioning himself slightly in front of her protectively. After he was finished spewing profanities into the frigid night air, the mugger looked up at the unlikely duo - specifically at the revolver still aimed in his direction, and made a dash back to the brightly lit street side.

Claire hesitated to put her gun away, but acknowledging to herself that Gabriel had assisted in deterring what may have been a rather unfortunate incident, she gathered her purse up and shoved the weapon back inside where it belonged. "Are you okay?" he asked out of pure concern when she placed her back flat against the wall and slid down the rough brick surface to sit on the ground. Her pulse was still pounding in her ears loud enough that she didn't hear his question at first.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked again, crouching down beside her and hovering a hand over her shoulder, still wary to touch her.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around herself trying not to imagine all the twisted things that man could have done to her. Claire had been so determined, so convinced that she could handle everything… Aside from the obvious "what ifs", the event was a serious blow to her ego.

"You must be freezing. Here, I brought your coat back…" Gabriel scooped the garment off the pavement and drew it around her. He sunk himself down to the ground next to her and leaned his back against the brick as she had done. "Well, _this_ has been the date from hell."

The exasperated tone in his voice amused her and she let a lightheaded giggle slip out. He lolled his head around to look at her with furrowed brows of confusion, and seeing her smile made him chuckle quietly. "I didn't leave that waiter at the restaurant a tip either." After a moment of bewildered silence they both broke out into a shared laughter that echoed along the alley.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you have a talent for attracting trouble."

Claire giggled again. "You have _no _idea."

"I've lived in this city my entire life and never seen anybody get robbed until now. You think we should call the cops?"

"No. I think I just want to go home and take a shower. Get some sleep."

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah. It's been a long day." Gabriel climbed to his feet and offered his hand to help her up. "Come on, I'll get us a cab."

They rode in silence to the Hyatt where Claire had booked her room. Once the cab pulled up to the front there was an awkward moment about how to say farewell for evening that had them both stifling giggles again. He stopped breathing for a moment when she reached out to put her arms around his neck, covertly placing the tracking device that Noah had given her within the fold of his coat's collar under the guise of a hug. When she began to pull away he finally reacted and embraced her as well, automatically closing his eyes and leaning in for a kiss. Left unaware of Gabriel's intentions she bent her chin to look up at him and inadvertently touched her lips to the corner of his mouth for a split second.

"Uh… Good night then," she muttered, rushing to exit the cab and escape to the comfort and security of her hotel room. Claire traced her fingers over her lips wondering exactly what had just happened, or how it had come to be. _Oh, well. I guess even a man on death row deserves a last meal._

He watched after her as she disappeared from view of the cab, placing his fingers over his mouth where they had made contact. A dopey grin slowly spread over his face_. _

**To be continued...**


	6. Bad Boy At Heart

**6**

**Bad Boy At Heart**

* * *

><p><em>February 17, 2006 - 27 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

"This has to be _the_ most boring guy ever. All he does is work, clean, and sleep." _Where are the bodies to be hidden, and the diabolical scheming to be done?_

Noah chuckled lightly beside her inside the Primatech van. They had been observing their target through the surveillance cameras that had been installed in the Gray and Sons watch shop days before and Claire was beginning to get antsy. "Not everybody we have to keep an eye on is out of the ordinary. They might have abilities, but most are just everyday people trying to live normal lives. And for all he knows, he _is _just a normal guy."

They continued to watch as Gabriel moved around his shop dusting and polishing every surface to a meticulous shine. Something about what her father had said tumbled around in the back of her mind, festering and flaring her temper. _They might have abilities, but most are just everyday people trying to live normal lives. _If these people were so intent on trying to be "normal" even when they weren't, whether they knew it or not, then why did they _have_ to be watched? Why did they have to be spied on, and treated as criminals? Obviously there were some with particularly harmful powers that had to be observed lest they accidentally lose control and end up hurting an innocent, but what about the others that weren't inherently dangerous? What about people like West Rosen and Alex Woolsey that she had known? Did they deserve to be watched, and then captured for science experiments? Did they cease to have the rights and liberties that others shared for no other reason than they were different by some random chance in nature and not of their own choice? People like her…

Claire found herself mentally leaping from the topic of "bagging and tagging" to what Noah had been involved with over the years. Using the Haitian's power to abuse her family's minds, abandoning her on her death bed during the eclipse to engage in his blind pursuit of Sylar, helping to manipulate Matt Parkman into shoving Nathan's mind into the head of a monster out of some self-righteous practicality. And then two very distinct thoughts crossed her worried mind.

One being that she had to struggle to remember that Noah had yet to commit such atrocities. He was not the man she knew in the future and thus was completely innocent of her wrath for that particular moment. Lashing out at her father for something he hadn't even done would be a pointless act of futility, and perhaps, having already changed the course of history by traveling back through time in the first place it was plausible that those things would never have to happen. Much like the deaths that had contributed to the reason she had come to change the future, maybe Claire could save Noah as well.

The other racing thought echoing for attention was that she had silently accused the man beside her of being blind in his pursuits of Sylar, and yet, there _she_ was stationed in a Primatech van down the block from the villain's contemporary lair mindlessly watching him wipe down the same table surface that he had already covered twice that afternoon. It was more than a little narcissistic to believe that she was any better than Noah when the sweet taste of vengeance had become her sole purpose for existence of late. _Hypocrite much?_

"He's _still_ boring. And I seriously think he must have O.C.D. or something because I've watched him clean that same counter like three times already."

"No, he is not." René, being a man of very few words and commonly thought a mute, once he decided that he actually had something to say held everyone's rapt attention. "Watch his movements," he indicated on the surveillance monitor. "They are not the actions of a man that _needs_ his space to be clean. They are not rushed or desperate, but slow and thought out. Methodical."

"Like a habit?" Noah perked up. The Haitian nodded in simple agreement. "Interesting. Like it's something that's been ground into him so much that it's become a part of his nature… but not necessarily his personality."

"So, what? _He's_ not O.C.D. but someone he knows is?" Claire didn't get to have her question answered. Gabriel had climbed up onto a foot ladder to dust one of the shelves that their primary camera was concealed upon. She watched him lift his hand to move over the area directly in front of the video feed, but he stopped with his brows furrowed, apparently in deep thought. He glanced back over his shoulder towards the door and almost imperceptibly nodded to himself. All three members of their group breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped down from the foot ladder, failing to discover the hidden camera.

Gabriel made his way behind the counter that displayed numerous fashions of wrist watches and pulled a sheet of paper from one of the side drawers, laying it down on the glass, and vacantly staring at it for several minutes. He retrieved his cell phone and punched a few numbers in before snapping it shut and spending a little more time thinking. That strange behavior repeated itself at least half a dozen times before he finally stood patiently waiting for an answer.

Inside her purse Claire's phone began to ring. She exchanged nervous glances with her father and René before Noah suggested that she pick up the call. "Hello?"

"Um, hi, Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Gabriel… Gray. I was, um, just calling to, uh, remind you that you're watch was still here. At the shop."

"Uh, yeah. You know I was actually just on my way to take care of that." Noah quirked a brow at her. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, then. I'll see you in a bit."

"Duty calls," she muttered with feigned indifference, sliding open the van door and hopping out. Turning back to the television that displayed the inside of Gray and Sons, Noah observed with a stern frown as Gabriel spun around in an awkward celebratory dance.

Claire was fully prepared for her entrance that time around, not even stopping to hesitate and expecting the obtrusive tinkling of the bell that would announce her arrival. Except the tone of the bell was mysteriously absent. She looked upward to discern why which her counterpart seemed to find amusing.

"I took it out - the bell."

"I noticed," she said taking in the full scope of his mischievous smile. "Why?"

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. "It always seemed to bother you for some reason."

_He took it out because it bothered me? Why would he care if it bugged somebody he barely knows?_ "Yeah, um, thanks." _I think? _"I guess I have another thing to thank you for too." He peaked a curious brow. "For helping me out the other night with that guy… That was a heck of a punch."

"Not really," he bowed his head with a humble smile. "I saw he had a surgical scar from a prior nasal fracture that indicated a weak point in the bone. It was just kind of a maximum damage with minimal force kind of thing." His voice slowly trailed off into a whisper as he caught himself beginning to ramble.

"How did you learn stuff like that?" she asked with some genuine amazement.

"I, uh," he started drumming his fingers anxiously. "I used to get picked on as a kid. A _lot._ I guess I just kind of had to learn how to fight back to survive." For a moment Claire wasn't entirely sure who it was that she was looking at. The man before her had all of the distinctive physical features of her personal tormentor. She had seen some of the contrary traits that belonged to Sylar's personality in him. And yet, this Gabriel was someone completely new that she had never really met before. It was almost impossible for her to imagine Sylar _ever_ getting "picked on", but Gabriel…

"Well, whatever it was, thank you." Claire even felt a real smile come along to accompany the sentiment.

"You're welcome," came his hushed replay with an endearing flush to darken his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

"So," she started lightly hoping to brighten the mood, "how's my new favorite tax evader?"

If it was possible Gabriel's blush reddened even more. "That was _one_ time," he insisted playfully. "And I got it taken care of this morning, thank you very much." He flashed her a dazzling smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Your watch is in the back," he said with his smile faltering and his hands beginning to fidget again.

Claire followed him back into his workroom where not just one, but _two_ Sylar wrist watches sat ticking away on the table in perfect unison. "This was… _really_ amazing to get to work with." Gabriel held the piece designated as hers out for inspection. As far as she could know he had restored the device to flawless working order. "I had no idea that there was anything like it out there already. I've been working on mine for seven years now, and… Well, whoever made this one," he tapped gently on the face of the copy she was holding, "was a real genius." _You have no idea. _

"Yeah, I guess so," she responded. Biting her lip against the uncomfortable silence she had to ask, "How much do I owe you? For fixing it?"

"Don't worry about it. It's on the house," he waved her off.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, I kind of used it to help finish mine so it pretty much paid for itself. I hope you don't mind?"

_What was that about changing the course of history again? _"_No_, no, that's fine." She looked upon the simple little watch with its overly intricate innards wondering how many repercussions may have been inadvertently brought about because of its existence.

"Hello?" a distant voice pierced the quiet of the store from somewhere around the front. Gabriel held up a finger gesturing for her to wait while he assisted a customer. After he disappeared from view of the doorway Claire took a few glances around the little workroom. Deciding that it might be her only opportunity to freely look through the personal space, she hurriedly snooped about for any evidence of elicit activities. Inspecting drawers of spare parts, tool cases, and even a few neatly kempt accounting ledgers she found nothing that she thought would be out of the ordinary. Only when she ducked into the little side bathroom was it that she found anything remotely out of place, and all things considered it wasn't even all _that _despicable.

_Huh. So he really does have a thing for blondes, _she thought to herself as she flipped through the pages of a magazine featuring scantily clad women that had been inconspicuously tucked behind the toilet. After growing up with a younger brother the contents of the magazine seemed curiously modest. Soft even since the females were only shown wearing imaginative lingerie instead of the smutty nudes that she had accidentally uncovered in Lyle's room once when she had been on laundry duty. _Weird. I always figured him for a whips and chains kind of guy… Oh my God. I can't believe I actually just thought about Sylar having a sex life. Gag._

It was an all together anti-climactic event finding a lady zine as her only clue to any deviance on Gabriel's part, but oddly satisfactory. Between a late tax payment and his modest porn stash, Gabriel was seriously starting to make small time white collar criminals look hardcore. Claire carefully replaced everything as she had found it and returned to her spot beside his workbench with only a moment to spare before he returned.

"Hey, um," Gabriel ran a distracted hand through his hair. "I know that our little date the other night didn't exactly go smoothly, but…"

Claire perked up. "Yes?"

"I was just wondering, hoping really, that maybe you would consider giving it another try?" For the first time since she had made her trip through time and space, Claire truly opened her eyes and _looked_ at Gabriel Gray. And she found him to be for the most part _normal_. From the absurdly dorky clothing with the heavy rimmed glasses to the meek attitude and painfully shy demeanor, Gabriel was the exact opposite of everything Sylar had ever been to her. The building blocks for his dark alter ego were certainly there, but he remained if not somewhat hyper-intelligent and self-deprecating, absolutely normal. She doubted that he could ever even bring harm to a fly in his current state unless provoked.

_I guess if I have to forgive my Dad for things that he hasn't done yet, maybe I should give him a chance too?_ "Yeah. I think I'd like that." After a lingering thought about their previous encounter though she chose to correct that answer. "Maybe a nice quiet night _in _though?"

A million watt smile lit him up from head to toe brighter than any Christmas tree she had ever seen. "That might be a good idea. Pretty hard to attract trouble with just me around. _Even for you_," he chuckled. Claire was unquestionably affected by the contagious mirth in his features and felt herself returning the humor with a grin of her own.

**To be continued...**


	7. You Give Pinot A Bad Name

**7**

**You Give Pinot A Bad Name**

* * *

><p><em>February 18, 2006 - 26 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

_1146 Trenton Place Apt 1B, Queens, NY 11011. _Claire looked at the address that Gabriel had provided for her again from her seat in the back of the cab. Not that she really needed to know it since the tracking device she had planted on his coat had firmly remained in a single location throughout the day, but she found herself inexplicably nervous. Discounting the fact that it was _Sylar_, she was about to be left alone in the home of an adult male whom had made his romantic interest in her known. Well, she wouldn't truly be left alone. Noah and the Haitian were going to be patiently waiting in the Primatech van at a reasonable distance to avoid suspicion but within range for a speedy retrieval should she need it. Even breathing exercises helped to calm her racing heart rate and she tried to tell herself that the anxiety she felt was solely due to the person she was going to be with, but the truth of the matter was that she was a fish stranded on the beach - completely out of her element. Claire had never faced a similar prospect before; at least not one relating to any man that wasn't an immediate family member.

She wasn't necessarily fearful that Gabriel would try to harm her or force himself on her, especially after becoming aware that she was armed. But what were they supposed to do together? Would he be content to simply talk, or would he be expecting something else? What if he wanted to kiss her, or… _touch_ her? Claire swallowed a hard chunk of nerves knowing that she was in no way prepared to go far enough to please a twenty-eight-year-old man. She wasn't sure that she would know_ how_ if she were.

The cab pulled up to their destination and she drew out the payment and thanking of the driver looking for any excuse to procrastinate, but after that task had been dealt with all there was left was to follow through. None of the passing tenants in the housing complex gave her a second glance as she made her way up to Gabriel's floor. Claire paused outside of the door to apartment 1B with her fist poised to knock but unable to complete the motion. Another door just down the hall opened and a man appearing to be slightly older than she but probably still of college age exited, glancing in her direction and back to shutting his door, and then back to her again in a rapid double-take.

"_Hello_," he greeted flirtatiously. "What's a _fine_ thing like you doing all the way over there? If you were looking for me, you got the wrong address cupcake."

Claire snorted contemptuously at the not-so-subtle advance. _Another one of those. Are all guys wired to be so egotistical? _"Wasn't looking for you, _cupcake_," she shot back with an eye roll of blatant disdain.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you ain't lookin' for ol' Gabe either."

"As a matter of fact, I _am_."

"Wait, wait," he laughed, seeming to find her insistence amusing. "You must be the hot sister, right? Because no nerd is complete without one."

_What the hell is with everyone trying to call me his sister?_ She ignored his lingering presence, suddenly finding the ambition to knock. Gabriel must have been pacing nearby in waiting because he immediately flung the door wide open with a blinding smile. "Claire. Hey. Come on in." The guy down the hall remained with a comically confused expression on his face so she didn't resist the urge to stick her tongue out at him in a fit of immaturity before entering.

Gabriel's apartment was more neatly kempt than any bachelor's pad had a right to be. Of course, after visiting Gray and Sons on multiple occasions Claire couldn't bother to be surprised. Every surface was a gleaming example of sterility with the sole exception being that of the small table in the meager accommodations that the kitchen area provided. There he had set out a fanciful red dining cloth to compliment a vanilla candle and a slim vase of fragrant apple blossoms ranging in hues from a soft white to delicate pinks. "I hope you like them," he said after taking note of her visual favor to the flowers.

"They're really pretty."

"I picked them out because they reminded me of you." His tone took on a shy, boyish quiet quality. "They're, um, smoothly textured with attractive symmetrics. And they, uh, smell nice." He helped to slide her coat off of her shoulders and turned his back on her for a moment to hang the garment on a rack by the door with a telltale flushing creeping over the back of his neck, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like "soft hair_". _Continuing to be a level of gentleman that Claire had only ever seen in cheesy movies. he pulled her chair out for her before dashing to retrieve two plates of lasagna from the oven.

"I wasn't sure what you like to drink so I kind of got a bit of everything. There's some bottled water, tea, Coke, Pepsi, or a, um, really nice Pinot Noir that I found…"

_Oh no, not again._ Claire fought herself to remain calm under the focus of his jubilant eyes but openly failed to do so. Gabriel's smile deflated and he quirked his head to the side again reading her facial expression and nervous body language. "Pinot is a _no_. Got it."

"No, it's fine, really," she tried to assure but the mild tremble in her voice betrayed her and he quickly spirited the bottle out of sight. "I guess I'll take a Coke then." He smiled faintly and poured a frosty glass of the requested beverage for her. "This all looks really nice," she piped up, surprising herself with the honesty of the compliment.

"Thanks." Gabriel took his seat across from her and idly poked at the food in deep thought occasionally glancing up at her to further study her reactions. "Claire, I don't want to be too forward, but…"

"What?"

"I, um, I really hope I'm not being rude, and if you don't want to tell me that's okay." They traded a long moment of locked questioning eyes. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked while finding an excuse to fiddle with her intricately folded napkin.

"Sometimes…" he leaned back in his chair to look at her with Sylar's calculating intensity. "Sometimes it's like certain things trigger a bad memory for you or something. The way you flinch away if I get too close to you, or little things like the wine… Did somebody hurt you, Claire?"

_You._ "There was a guy." It was hard to concentrate under the critical weight of the eyes burning into her so she looked away. "He did a lot of terrible things to me and people I loved." Gabriel came forward conspiratorially in hopes of urging her to elaborate. "He, um… He killed people." A tear welled up in her eye and she quickly blinked it away. "He attacked _me_ a couple of times, and had this _sick_ fantasy that we somehow belonged together. And he, um, forced me to drink a damn Pinot with him while he touched me and told me how everyone I cared about was going to die." The flood gates opened and she choked back sobs through a swollen throat while the tears fell freely down her cheeks. She had told the people that mattered in her life what had happened, but never really _talked_ about it, and perhaps in spite of the identity of the person that she shared those scarring experiences with, it felt unexpectedly cathartic.

Gabriel chewed on the inside of his lip desperately searching for something to say or do. His hand hovered lightly over hers wanting to offer comfort but afraid of spooking her after such a profound revelation. "He… He didn't… _rape_ you, did he?" He instantly regretted asking, finding that he didn't really want a confirmation of his deepest fears for the girl.

"No. Not in the physical sense anyways. It wasn't like _that_." Claire wiped away the moist trails leading from her eyes missing out on her companion's inaudible sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry if my asking upset you." _Like making her cry wasn't obvious. Way to go idiot._

"It's okay," she mustered a sad smile. "It, um, actually felt kind of good to say it out loud. Like getting rid of something ugly."

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me stuff if you don't want to. But if you ever _do_ want to talk about it…"

"Thanks." She took a healthy bite of her lasagna. "Wow, this is great."

"Glad you like it." The corner of his mouth turned upward again. "It's my mother's recipe." Gabriel felt oddly satisfied despite the emotional drain. Claire had opened up to him in a very personal way, even if it was by plodding through some rather dark skeletons in her proverbial closet. He could almost feel his attachment to the girl growing and hoped that the bond was building mutually.

After dinner Claire wandered into his living room while Gabriel finished cleaning up. Most of the walls were lined with shelving for books from floor to ceiling creating the most eclectic if not eccentric collection she had ever seen. Everything from Shakespeare and Faulkner, to the entire Encyclopedia Britannica and instructional manuals were present, and when combined with the gentle quiet of the place made for a cozy library atmosphere. As her fingers aimlessly roamed the spines of a section of medically related texts her eyes took in the lack of personal decoration within the space. The place may have been his house, but it wasn't being inhabited as though the occupant considered it _home_.

She didn't exactly hear him enter the living room behind her, but Claire felt his presence watching her inspect the area. "This is some collection you've got going." She turned around to see him looking after her self-consciously with his hands jammed into his pockets where they continued to fidget. "I can't really tell how you've got it organized though."

"Oh, it's um, sectioned by genre in alphabetical order and then filtered through publication date, author, and personal preference… I like to read a lot." Claire pulled out a copy of an advanced engine mechanics text. "And learn things," he added with a shy smile.

"And fix things?" she laughed when the next book she selected covered plumbing expertise.

"Yeah. I have to know how stuff works. It drives me crazy until I figure it out. Kind of makes my skin crawl." He took note of the downward curve of her lips as they sank into a concealed frown and the distanced look in her eyes. "I guess some people would call it a personality flaw."

"So what's with the plastic furniture?" she asked looking to move on to another topic of discussion. Gabriel looked over his couch and chair covered in the clear sheeting.

"Have you ever _seen_ a picture of _Dermatophagoides farinae_?" He made a distasteful face. "My mother showed me one as a kid. It looked like an alien. Scared the hell out of me. The plastic protects the upholstery from deposits of dead skin cells that they eat." A little shiver ran down his back.

"Gross." _I suddenly have a whole new appreciation for my Grandma's house._

Claire stepped into the bathroom and took her time to snoop around a little more. Searching through Gabriel's things was becoming a habit driven more out of curiosity than a fear of danger. Except maybe when she found his straight razor. Her eyes widened considerably at the bright gleam of the blade, sharpened to perfection. She absent-mindedly ran a finger across the length of it and pulled the appendage back to see a bone deep gouge healing. Cleaning up her mess as neatly as possible, Claire came back into the living room to find her evening's companion relaxed on the couch sipping a cup of coffee. She spared a sideways glance into his bedroom on the way over to him, spying a single twin sized bed made up so tightly she imagined being able to bounce quarters off of the sheets.

"Decaf," he mentioned, indicating a matching cup of coffee resting on a coaster. "If you're anything like me it's probably not a good idea to get wound up this late."

_Have you ever stopped to think about how much we have in common, Claire?_ She involuntarily shuddered. "Is coffee a _no_ too?" he asked with concern having seen her twitchy reaction.

"It's fine," she promised, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch and feeling a bit relieved when he didn't try to move closer. Claire discreetly stole glances of him from the corners of her eyes. All of her prior worries about possible physical interactions had been for naught. Gabriel seemed perfectly content to sit quietly.

Of course she could never know the thoughts racing through his mind in all directions at once. Curious to know if her legs felt as silky as they appeared to be, but chiding himself for thinking about such things after she had disclosed information to do with previous assaults. Remembering the soft press of her lips, but willing himself to keep a reasonably placid surface against the acidic churning of anxiety in his stomach. His experience with the female gender was limited at best and he wasn't exactly confident in his ability to intimately please her even if she wanted him to. _Where did I put the Tums again?_

"Your hand."

"Huh?" Gabriel snapped out of his reverie.

"Your hand," she repeated, setting her coffee down and scooting a little closer to inspect the left set of knuckles. Claire gingerly turned his hand over in her own studying the faint traces of residual swelling and darker pigments of bruises. "Is that from the other night?"

"Yes," he admitted sheepishly, subconsciously leaning in towards her.

"So much for _minimum force_," she teased lightly. Gabriel ignored the heat of a blush rising under the skin of his face in an effort to find similar evidence of their experience marring her skin. Claire jerked away a bit when the hand she wasn't holding reached out to brush against her neck.

"I thought for sure you would be bruised up too. The way that guy had you by the throat…" He had to look away from her as he choked back the flaring of his temper over the memory. "You're lucky."

"It takes a little bit more than that to hurt me." When he turned back to look at her again he was briefly startled by the close proximity of her face to his own. Her brows were creased in deep contemplation as neither party moved away. Gabriel was the bug on the slide of her microscope again, but that time around she seemed more intrigued by the specimen than disgusted by it. "It's getting late. I should go," she finally spoke up, retracting her form.

"Okay." Gabriel jumped up to get her coat for her torn between nearly equal amounts of disappointment and relief.

"Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful." She smiled in a way that put a twinkle in her eyes when he handed her the flowers. "And for these."

"It, um, was nice to see you again." He fumbled with the door for a moment before taking a step out into the hall with her.

"Hey! It's Gabey and his hot sister!"

"_Steve_," Gabriel greeted politely through gritted teeth. The obnoxious neighbor that Claire had met earlier was returning just as she was ready to depart.

She was prepared to come up with a bitter retort to jab back with, but found something much more devious coming to mind. Claire took a long stern look at the guy referred to as "Steve" and then grabbed a fist full of Gabriel's shirt, roughly pulling him downward so that she could place a hand on either side of his face and press their lips together. Had she been paying any more attention to the neighbor she would have seen his expressions shifting between confusion, distaste, and finally defeat before he retreated into his own apartment to leave them alone.

Poor Gabriel's heart could have stopped beating for all he was aware of any reality beyond their kiss, and Claire seemed to have forgotten how to breathe among other things. It started out as one lingering touch between them but as his lips parted in silent shock another smaller kiss was added. He contributed the next allowing his hands to rest on her back. And the next became her turn, each giving and taking in sync without thought. Until her eyes fluttered open to remind her of what she was doing and with whom. Startled and short of breath they each bade the other a flustered farewell.

Claire stalked through the building in a daze, unable to reconcile with herself what the hell just happened. Before making the call for a pick up from her father however, she took a moment to smell the apple blossoms that Gabriel had gifted her with, a small smile spreading over her lips without her permission to do so.

Gabriel leaned back against his door in a mental haze, recalling every connection their mouths had made, the smooth skin of her face that he had brushed against, the soft curves and pressures of her lips, the warmth of her hands palming his jaw, the smell of her hair and the flowers that she had continued to hold, the heat that had radiated outward from her body… _Cold shower. Very, very, _very_ cold shower._

**To be continued...**


	8. The Sweetest Paradox

**8**

**The Sweetest Paradox**

* * *

><p><em>February 22, 2006 - 22 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

"Claire," Noah insistently wrapped his knuckles for entrance again, "honey, open the door. I know you're in there." She nestled deeper into her cocoon of blankets and pulled her pillow over her head to drown out the sounds of her father. "Claire, I don't know what happened, but if you just let me in we can talk it out. Come up with a plan… Something."

_What happened? What _happened_? I practically made out with my arch nemesis! The Hannibal freaking Lecter of the 'special' world! The guy who injected my mother with adrenaline so that she would blow up Primatech. The guy who slit my father's throat and watched him bleed out in the same room that he had basically promised to spend eternity personally tormenting me… The guy who cut my head open to rape my brain for another stupid power._

_And I kissed him. A _lot_. There may have even been a little tongue involved, I can't remember. But _that_ is _what happened_._

"Claire, did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?" _Would have been so much easier if he did. Maybe then I could hate him for it._ "Alright. That's it. This mission is over," Noah vowed. "We're going to finish this and be done with it." She thought she could just make out the sound of a pistol's magazine being dropped and reinserted.

"No!" she cried out, launching herself from the nest of bedding. Claire ripped open the door of her hotel room without regard to her disheveled state. Her father's eyes widened in surprise and the Haitian respectfully turned his gaze away from the sight of her nightgown. "Don't kill him," she pleaded before the words tumbling from her mouth registered their meaning in her own mind. "That's _my_ job," she quickly corrected.

"René, do you mind?" The Haitian nodded and took up a posting position beside the door to patiently wait while Noah spoke with his daughter. "You've been avoiding _your_ job," he started after closing the door behind him.

"I know," she mumbled.

Noah crossed his arms over his chest and gave her the same look that he had when she was younger and had neglected her share of the house chores. "Claire, this isn't something that you can quit just because you've lost interest in it."

"It isn't like that."

"Then what is it? I already told you that if you're not up to the task of… _finishing_ this, all you have to do is say the word." Claire dejectedly flopped back on to her bed.

"No. I _need_ to do this, Dad. He - Sylar was a monster."

"Claire Bear," he came to sit on the mattress beside her, "I know that you started this mission because you felt like you have what it takes, but I know _you_ kiddo, and you're not a killer. And that's okay. Heck," he removed his glasses to polish an imaginary spot off of one of the lenses, "that's better than okay. I'm proud that you're better than that. Better than me."

"Dad, I kissed him," she confessed in a rush and waited with bated breath to see what his reaction would be.

"Not _that _proud," he muttered sternly, replacing his glasses to give her a calculating look. Noah sighed heavily having seen something written in his daughter's eyes. "You're having doubts about the mission?"

Claire rolled over so that her back was turned to him. "I don't feel like it's the same guy," she spoke in hushed whispers. "I mean, obviously he _is_. He looks the same… kind of. His voice is the same. He smells the same. He looks at _me _the same." She missed Noah's concerned frown at the mention of the last detail. "The screwed up background and the ability… Some of the things he says and does. It's all there. Everything _Sylar_ is already there just waiting to get out."

"But?"

"_But_… He's just… Gabriel." She rolled back over to look into her father's worried eyes. "He's still a little _strange,_ but he's not a psycho. I've _tried_ to feel Sylar in there, _believe me_ I have."

"You think he's innocent." Claire bit her bottom lip with downcast eyes of shame. "Claire Bear," he started again, taking a moment to think out his next words, "you're the _only_ reason we know about Gray at this point. He wasn't even on our radar until you came along with verified reports of this Sylar character that he became. As far as we can tell he hasn't shown any kind of abnormal behavior or abilities. No history of violence except for one incident in high school we found on his record. But even then a sympathetic teacher had come forward to say that he had been provoked. Right now he doesn't even have an unpaid parking ticket out to get him."

"He doesn't have a car."

"You know what I mean." The edges of her frown lifted the slightest bit. "Up until this point Gabriel Gray has lived an exceptionally… normal life." Claire couldn't help but notice his pointed use of the word "normal" in place of the _boring _she knew Noah was thinking. "_Believe me_, I've been looking for _anything_ that might be Sylar in him too. All I can say is that it's a good thing René is there to help keep me awake. Watching all those tapes…" He shook his head fervently at the thought. "I had to switch back to caffeinated coffee." She almost smiled at the sentiment.

"So he _is_ innocent?" _And blissfully dull?_

"For the moment," Noah agreed making his stipulation of temporary status clear.

"What if," Claire sat up to be in her father's direct line of sight for sincerity, "we made sure that that never changed?" He peaked an eyebrow in interest, urging her to continue. "What if we can make it so that he never meets Dr. Suresh? He would never even find out that he has an ability, or that there are people out there with them."

"Is that what you think we should do?"

She tugged her lip between her teeth again while waging an internal debate. On one hand, if she did just put an end to his life there would be absolutely no risk of Sylar ever coming about, and that was after all her primary objective. A rather large part of her still enthusiastically entertained the idea of watching the life drain from his eyes, but then that other much more annoying conscience-stricken side of her mind had to pipe up with its opinion. Gabriel hadn't done anything wrong. Never mind the _yet_. There was a risk involved with allowing him to continue living as the dorky watchmaker from Queens, but not one that couldn't be taken care of should the need arise. _No one _would have to die.

"I think we should exhaust all of our options."

Noah allowed a slow smile to creep over his lips. "I still can't believe you're not my little girl anymore."

"I'm still _Claire Bear_," she assured with a playful roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, but now you're all grown up. Making decisions. Becoming a levelheaded young woman." He sighed with a distant glance beyond her as his mind wandered for a moment. "As soon as I get back we'll talk to Angela about this little idea. See what she has to say. But at the first sign of _any_ emerging misconduct we have our orders to stand by." He directed a commanding finger at her with an expression of deadly seriousness on his face.

"Agreed," she nodded wholeheartedly. _Totally agreed. _But something in his words caught her attention. "When you come back? Where are you going?"

"Home. I've got to spend a _little_ time with my daughter before she gets too old for one of her bears from around the world." Claire suddenly remembered having received a teddy bear from New York before, but later in time… _Weird._

"René will stick around in case you run into any trouble or need help." Noah got up and made his way to leave. "I'll be back next week. Until then I want you to stay careful and focused," he jabbed his finger at the air in her direction to make his point clear again. "And if he so much as sneezes funny, _do not _hesitate to use your gun."

"Don't worry. If I even _think_ Sylar is starting to come out it won't be a problem."

"Right," he grunted in an almost condescending manner before opening the door to exit. "And Claire… No more kissing. Or _anything else_ for that matter." A bright crimson flush of embarrassment heated the surface of her face.

On their way back to the Primatech van, Bennet turned to the Haitian in a moment of wary hesitation. "You don't think she's getting attached?" The dark man simply shared a look with his partner while maintaining his characteristic silence. "Right," he grunted again, having interpreted some kind of answer from their exchange. "Stay close. Shadow her any time she's around him just to make sure."

* * *

><p>Later that day after seeing her father off at the airport, Claire had joined René in the back of the van for some more surveillance duty. She found herself mildly curious as to what their target had been up to in her absence. Studying the monitor that displayed the live feed source stashed within Gray and Sons however quickly became a tired repeat of the worst television show imaginable. Gabriel tinkered for a while, and then he would clean something. A customer would come in and divert his attention for a few moments, and then he would stare off into space, or look longingly at something on the counter that was in the vicinity of the phone before going back to work.<p>

Perhaps recognizing the fatigued look on her face from having worked with her father for so long, the Haitian retrieved a coffee for her without having been asked. Claire thanked him and took to glancing over the days' recordings while she sipped the steamy beverage. Running the tapes through fast-forward she observed much more of the same routine. Working, cleaning, anxious pacing… jumping at the phone like some kind of Pavlovian experiment the second it rang.

"Huh, I wonder who he's so excited about calling." The Haitian gave her a rather pointed look, communicating in his own way that the answer should have been obvious to her. "I guess you're right," she sighed. Without another word Claire slipped out of the van and headed down the block towards the shop.

Prior to entering she found herself pausing much as she had the day of her first encounter with the man known solely as Gabriel Gray. A frosty breeze nipped at her nose and nervous butterflies tormented her stomach while her hand hovered over the handle, reluctant to open the door. He wasn't just her enemy anymore. Not just the man whose life she had taken up the task of ending. He was her _responsibility_.

_Hopefully this ends better than the gold fish thing. They never should have trusted me with remembering to feed a pet._

Claire stepped inside, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the relevant darkness of the store. When Gabriel didn't spring out from the shadows to greet her, she figured that he must not have heard her come in since the removal of the bell that had formerly announced company. She tiptoed to the back where she found him hunched over his work table so thoroughly engrossed in his task that he had failed to notice her presence. She feigned a cough that sounded irrationally loud when it clashed against the rhythmic ticks and tocks.

Gabriel nearly had to be pried from the ceiling and reinserted into his own skin for how she had startled him. Miniscule watch parts scattered over the surface of the table along with whatever metallic tool he had been holding at the time eliciting a few foul words from under his breath.

"Claire?" he asked having finally turned to discern the identity of his intruder. She couldn't respond at first, being distracted by the confusing and costly looking apparatus he was wearing on his head. His eyes were obscured by a set of multiple lenses arranged to rotate around various magnifications, and with his mouth hanging open in surprise only one thought was allowed to roam free in her mind.

"You look ridiculous," she giggled hysterically. Gabriel quickly divested himself of the device while mumbling something about only needing it for the finer time pieces.

"I was wondering if I would see you again." _After the other night with the whole coercing you into reliving your life's worst moments and then practically throwing myself at you thing._ The depths of the brown pools that had spent years terrorizing her began to more closely resemble those of a lost puppy.

"Sorry. I kind of got caught up in my work."

He nodded understandingly with traces of a sweet smile lifting his mouth. _Known her for a week now and she hasn't run away screaming. My longest lasting relationship yet. _Claire came to kneel by his side to assist in the recovery of all the pieces that had gone awry when she spooked him. "I'm glad you decided to come back," he spoke earnestly while taking a delicate spring from her, his hand lingering with hers for a moment.

"So, tell me about watches."

"Time pieces," he automatically corrected before being taken by surprise that she would show any real interest in his work.

"Time pieces," she repeated with a half-smile. Gabriel resumed his seat at the table and began to explain some of the more basic mechanical details of the time keeping device. He showed her how there were individual layers of wheels and cogs overlapping one another for the orderly function of certain aspects such as the date display and how they all came together to work as a solitary unit. Glancing up occasionally to check that she was following what he was telling her, Gabriel's interest was further peaked in the girl when she appeared to understand. He was quite delighted to discover that she was no ordinary simpleton as many of the people around him were.

"A lot of people underestimate how intricate something like a wrist watch can be. They take for granted the amount of effort and skill that's needed to create a perfect series of synchronizations. It's art," he added with a sigh of contentment. "Here," he said, offering his seat for her to take. "You try."

Claire sat down as directed and reached for the open back of the piece closest to her. "Oh, maybe not _that_ one," he interrupted. "That one is very, _very_ expensive. Um, try this one." She took the device into her hands and turned it about under the light of the lamp to study the internal metal configurations. Without even searching for his approval Claire fiddled with the selection of specialty screwdrivers until she located the one that she believed would be a fit, and then proceeded to tighten up a loose section. They were both elated when her findings proved to be correct.

"That's amazing," he beamed. "I can't believe you figured it out that fast."

"What can I say? I'm smarter than the average blonde," she joked.

"Yes you are." His voice was filled with blatant pride. _Beautiful _and_ intelligent? Maybe this one is a keeper._

Their grins slowly faded away. With Claire sitting on the low stool and Gabriel on his knees beside her their height differences were compensated enough to bring one another into a level line of sight. Timidly and painfully slowly he leaned in as if to bestow a kiss on her, carefully measuring her reactions the entire way. Just an inch shy of completing the motion however he stopped.

"Claire," he shifted uncomfortably, "can you promise me something?"

She was instantly cautious of the prospect, studying every detail of his seemingly sincere expression and apprehensive body language. "What is it?"

"I… like you… a lot. And I…" He cast his gaze downward in deep thought about the last time they had kissed and how bewildered she had been by the experience, flitting away as quickly as possible afterward.

"Gabriel?" she prodded.

"I don't want to do anything that _you_ don't want to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Okay?"

"Just promise that you won't lie to me," he finished while giving her the most imploring look she had ever seen before. The thought of him begging her for honesty sent a small pang of guilt through her more virtuous half. "If I do something wrong please tell me so I can fix it."

_Because that's what Gabriel does. He fixes things._

Realizing that time between them seemed to have stopped in anticipation of her answer and would not move forward again until she did, Claire clenched her eyes closed. She didn't want to be looking him in the face when she nodded her acquiescence, creating another lie in the act. Gabriel was quirking his head at her with furrowed brows when she opened her eyes to see him. He started to say something else but thought better of it and chose instead to lean forward just a touch more so that their lips ghosted over one another without making solid contact. The choice to accept or refuse the motion was hers alone to make.

Despite what may have been better judgment and the certainty of the Haitian's reprisal in her father's absence, Claire reveled for a moment in the intimacy of the non-kiss. _The mission. The mission. The mission. _She mentally recited her mantra, determining her shady objectives to be a reasonable excuse for what she was about to do. Saving her ponderings about the paradoxical tendencies residing within both of them, Claire made her choice and completed what Gabriel had started. She pressed their lips together and stole a sweet kiss.

**To be continued...**


	9. Tweezers

**9**

**Tweezers**

* * *

><p><em>February 25, 2006 - 19 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

"Jeez, don't you ever get cold?" Gabriel asked with a lighthearted laugh while he drew his coat tighter around himself to ward off the shiver rolling down his spine in the frosty winter air.

"Not really," Claire answered as honestly as possible while refraining from mentioning the fact that she couldn't even feel the numbness creeping into her fingers and the tip of her nose. "Warm-blooded I guess," she added with a small giggle. Seemingly on a whim she had told him that it would be nice to go for an afternoon stroll around Central Park, while in reality she secretly wanted to get some time away from being under the scrutinizing eyes of surveillance video. Knowing that the tracking device remaining attached to the underside of his coat's collar would appease the Haitian's worries, she had enjoyed getting some time to roam freely outdoors. Gabriel, being perpetually eager to please in exchange for attention hadn't even offered an argument for her suggestion of activities. In spite of his discomfort he had been content to indulge in simply being in her company.

People passing by the couple occasionally cast curious or suspicious glances in their direction along with whispers and gestures over their shoulders. All of which the pair had made an unspoken point to refuse acknowledgment of. Suppressing her own stings of temperament and the desire to openly declare that they should all mind their own business, Claire did have to admit that they made an odd sight when she rewarded his easy behavior with a joining of their hands. Undoubtedly some of the passerby were dredging up assumptions similar to the ones Gabriel himself had had in the beginning.

Her companion suddenly came to a dead stop which jarred her into an abrupt halt as well when she had become accustomed to his longer strides and sped up her pace slightly to match. She turned to see Gabriel standing still, his spine rigidly straight and half positioned as though he were ready to pursue something. "Gabriel?" He didn't even register the sound of her voice. Following his line of sight, Claire noted that he was watching after an attractive brunette woman down the walkway from them with his head tilted slightly to the side and his eyes narrowed critically. Anyone else may have misconstrued the action, believing that he may have just succumbed to a male tendency to admire the well-developed feminine form of someone closer to his own age, but she knew better. The expression on his face and the telltale darkening of his eyes was not that of a lustful nature. It was the same look that Sylar had given her on both occasions that he had come after her, determined to gain her ability for himself. The look of a hunter with prey in his sights.

"Gabriel?" she prodded again, giving his hand a healthy squeeze in an attempt to divert his attentions. "What's wrong?" She had to feign ignorance. While the notion of chasing after the woman screaming for her to run perked in the back of her mind and her fingers subconsciously slipped into her purse to wrap around the revolver's handle, an altercation with so many witnesses wouldn't be prudent if she had other options available.

"Huh?" he finally responded when she jerked her hand clean away from his.

"Already checking out other women? If I'm boring you, you can just say something you know." Playing the embittered jealousy card was the first thing that entered her mind, but she immediately regretted not being able to claw those words back out of existence with the hurt look that replaced the feral one on his features.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, hanging his head. "I wasn't checking her out though. I swear," he vowed fervently while glancing up at her from under his brows like a little boy that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "There was just… _something_ about her. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on."

"Something _special_?" she inquired with bated breath, knowing exactly what he was trying to describe.

"I don't know that I would necessarily call it 'special'," he insisted as though she needed placating. "Just something… I don't know. _Different_? Maybe? Sometimes there's just people that _feel_ different from everybody else. Like there's something _more_ under the surface waiting to get out." Gabriel carefully swept a rogue lock of her hair out from the breeze and tucked it back behind her ear again. "You have it too."

Her breathing hitched with the weight of that observation. "I do?"

"It was the first thing I noticed about you." Claire felt herself involuntarily frown. "I know it sounds cheesy or like a lame pick up line," he said, backing off and jamming his hands into his pockets to avoid fidgeting, completely misunderstanding her disgruntled state. "You're like this big puzzle to me that I can't quite put together. But I like trying." His face lit up with a boyish grin from ear to ear. "And you're not _boring_. You're the most beautiful and intricate puzzle I've ever found. All the others," he half gestured in the direction the other woman had gone, "don't even compare. And _that_ is _special_."

_Thanks… I think?_ Claire had absolutely no idea as to how she should have been feeling about his sentiments, and less of an inkling about how to react to them. Even without being aware of his power, Gabriel had managed to detect hers and those of others. He may not have known _what_ it was that he had found or that it was possible to extract, but the interest and instinct to discover those answers was already firmly in place. She had hoped that his vast collection of books and manuals had either served as a simple cure for boredom or belonged to one of his other obsessive tendencies towards learning. But it began to appear that the restless devouring of any and all knowledge was the calling card of a barely constrained _hunger_ lurking just beneath the shy quiet Gabriel exterior and ready to rear its ugly Sylar head at any queue.

"Was that too much?" he asked with concern when she had remained frozen in her reverie. "That was too much, wasn't it? I'm sorry." A light pink flushing coated his cheeks and the tops of his ears. She had been too distracted by her little epiphany to even notice the confession in his words.

"Let's go get some coffee and warm up for a bit." Her response may not have been along the similar lines that he had hoped for, but it wasn't a rejection. That was a starting point.

Once inside of the little coffee house that Gabriel favored on occasion, he removed his glasses to avoid the rapidly fogging lenses. While he ordered their drinks, Claire singled out a cozy little table for them to relax at. She watched with more than a little irritation as the barista he spoke to shot him a million dollar smile with a heavy dose of appraising eyes. Her mouth twitched when the young woman made a show of flipping her bottle blonde hair and bending over to grab another sleeve of lids, giggling like an idiot at something he had said throughout the whole process.

She could only see his back from where she sat but in her attempt to read his reaction to the obvious flirtations Claire discovered something she very nearly considered disturbing when she remembered exactly who it pertained to. With his knee-length winter coat concealing the prim collared shirt and drab sweater vest, Gabriel cut quite an appealing figure. His tall visage came equipped with a set of enticing broad shoulders and a visibly firm chest. And while he wasn't exactly muscular, even bordering on lanky, his trim figure was actually… _attractive_.

_I just checked out Sylar. Oh my God, I can't believe I just checked out Sylar. How the hell did that happen? And why is that bimbo still hitting on him?_

Fortunately her irrational pang of jealousy was relieved when Gabriel came sauntering over to her with drinks in hand and rolling his eyes in frustration. He sat down in a huff, muttering something under his breath about an "airhead_". _

"Somebody thought you were cute," she teased.

"Who?" he asked, quirking a curious brow. Claire almost felt the need to laugh out loud in triumph. Gabriel had been completely oblivious to the other girl's advances.

"The barista you were talking to."

He snorted at the ludicrous idea. "Yeah right. She might have thought I was a sap with money because I had to break a hundred, but not cute."

"I saw the way she was looking at you," she continued in her own flirty tone. He gave her a sullen smile laced with sarcasm and no humor, eyes flashing a warning signal to drop whatever it was that had made him uncomfortable. Apparently Gabriel enjoyed being teased even less than Sylar had. "Gabriel?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you trust me?"

He glanced up from the mouth of his coffee cup, interested but wary. "I guess?"

* * *

><p>"I never imagined that the word 'I' in conjunction with 'guess' in reference to trust would lead to my downfall," he snarked playfully as Claire shoved him into a chair at the kitchen table in his apartment.<p>

"Don't be so dramatic," she laughed. Carefully removing his glasses and setting them down on the faux wood surface, she took a long critical look at him that made him feel more than a little self-conscious. Claire held up a commanding finger and told him to wait there while she disappeared into his bedroom for a moment to snoop through his closet. She took a moment to wonder how she had managed to become so comfortable in the man's home and thumbing through his personal possessions before retrieving a smooth long-sleeved black shirt from its hanger and returning to the kitchen, pleased to find him patiently waiting as she had instructed with nervously fidgeting hands. "Put this on," she ordered, thrusting the shirt at him.

Gabriel quirked a thick eyebrow at her in question. "I haven't worn this since my grandfather's funeral ten years ago." Raising her own brow line to silently inquire what his point was, he sighed and held up his hands in surrender. He stripped off his sweater vest and began to loosen the buttons of his collar before he remembered the impropriety of taking off his clothing while she stood there with her arms crossed. Watching.

"Can you turn around or something?" he asked with an embarrassed blush rising in his face.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized in a rush after being reminded that the situation was significantly different from seeing her brother or uncle bare chested. Her own cheeks burned when she heard the rustling of fabric and an immature curiosity prompted her to sneak a quick glance over her shoulder and out of the very corners of her eyes. Gabriel had turned his back to her as well out of insecurity but in the second that she had caught her peek, her eyes trailed over a smooth expanse of skin with a surprising amount of taut muscle that rippled seductively when his shoulders moved.

_He doesn't work out, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised he's in good shape. The guy never stops moving._

"Okay," he sighed, signaling that he was descent again. Claire noted that he had buttoned the shirt up all the way to the stiff collar as was habitual with him. Pushing him back into a seated position so that she could continue, she hesitated but willed her fingers to work out the top two buttons. Gabriel's eyes widened in surprise when the back of her hand brushed over the sensitive skin of his clavicles and the top portion of dark chest hair growing in the area, her own curious gaze lingering there long enough to become conspicuous.

Realizing that she was suffering a horrifying hormonal moment, Claire forced herself to focus on the task at hand. "Now _this_," she remarked playfully while fetching a slim plastic bottle of a clear jelly-like substance from a small shopping bag, "is called, and repeat after me, _hair gel_."

"Hair gel," he laughed, taking the container from her. Gabriel needed a second to satisfy his own inquisitive nature while he studied the gelatinous liquid and read the listing of ingredients before he doled out a healthy glob and worked it through his thick dark locks. She imagined a low purring sound vibrating outward from the depths of his throat when his eyes closed and his head rolled back while she combed out his hair. A serene smile of contentment hovered over his lips that she was hard pressed not to imitate.

"Okay, now take a look," she instructed, handing him a mirror.

Gabriel snickered at his reflection. "I look like one of those brain dead male models from a magazine - ridiculous," he laughed.

"I don't think it looks _that_ bad." Claire scanned over her modest amount of makeover handiwork with pursed lips. The shirt displayed the contours of his body in a very flattering manner, and the dark color of it brought out the searing intensity of his eyes while the sleek, backcombed hairstyle she had given him kept his stubborn hair out of his face so that the features hidden there could be clearly seen. And then it hit her.

_Holy crap. I just made him look like Sylar…_

"I mean, it looks really nice?" Gabriel was trying to read her expression again to discern why she had suddenly appeared so troubled.

"Nah. It's not you," she said, quickly composing herself. She reached over him and tussled her hands through the hair to mess it up into a comically disheveled state. "You…" Claire stopped herself short. In the hurried effort to correct her mistake she hadn't given much thought to their positions and she found that when bent over as she was, her chest came perilously close to Gabriel's face.

He seemed to have temporarily forgotten any reality beyond the view directly in front of him for a moment. Once he sensed that she had noticed however, he quickly coughed out an apology and shook his head, rapidly blinking away whatever dirty thoughts were clouding his normally prude mind. Gabriel turned the full force of his lost puppy brown eyes on her, begging a silent inquiry as to what he was supposed to do in their predicament.

Her visual senses relayed the information about his high cheekbones and defined jawline, the fullness of his lips, the soulful eyes, and the long nose that on anyone else would have appeared overly large, but somehow managed to fit his face perfectly. The parts all coalesced into a whole that she had always been too terrified, or blinded by hatred and disgust to appreciate before. "You look good the way you are."

They both swallowed hard when she didn't move away. Instead, Claire slowly sat down on his thighs so that she was still facing him. She pushed a fallen length of hair away from the eye it obscured and roamed her fingers over the features that she had just admired. _Sylar… good looking… What kind of bizzaro universe did Hiro leave me in?_

Gabriel timidly rested his palms on her back, still unsure of himself, or how she would receive him. When Claire traced over his bottom lip, they parted slightly and his eyes fluttered shut. Leaning in a touch more, she dropped her own mouth onto his for a shy kiss. They had both acclimated to the behavior of stealing the occasional smooch, but their current situation tested unknown waters. The extent of contact being experimented with was unfolding an entirely new level of physical exploration.

Dainty fingers crept around the back of his neck to tangle in hair that was still sticky with gel while his hands lowered down her back of their own accord. A rumbling groan filled her ears when she flicked her tongue out to meet his and the large hands at her rear moved to grip her hips. Gabriel dragged her closer to him so that her chest crushed against the solid planes of his own, all the while tugging her steadily downward into the dizzying spiral kissing passion.

Claire couldn't place how much time they had spent battling for dominance with swollen lips, but her partner's actions began to take on a desperate urgency and evidence of his attraction to her made itself apparent. She shifted her face to the side in an effort to slow him down. He pulled a hand up to cup her neck, moving his oral fixations down to the slope of her jaw and throat. When she started to fear that he wouldn't stop, Gabriel easily picked up on her tension and dropped his hands to his sides, cracking open a set of nearly solid black eyes that had lost their sweetness to something decidedly more primal.

"Too fast?" She started to say something to the contrary but he pressed his fingers to her lips to silence the protest. "I don't want to do anything you don't want to do."

Claire smiled and offered him a few more tender kisses as a conciliation prize. "Now repeat after me," she joked. "Tweezers."

His eyes widened exponentially, all traces of arousal evaporating instantly. "No. Huh, uh. Not happening. No way."

**To be continued...**


	10. How I Met Your Mother

**Musical lyrics provided by "This Magic Moment" by Ben E. King and The Drifter's circa 1960.**

* * *

><p><strong>10<strong>

**How I Met Your Mother**

* * *

><p><em>February 26, 2006 - 18 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

Claire made her way to Gabriel's apartment, taking care to avoid his neighbor Steve. When the coast was clear, she knocked on the door to 1B and was mildly surprised when it swung open immediately since she hadn't called ahead of time. He flashed her a dazzling smile and lead her in by the hand, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze in greeting while he continued a prior conversation over the phone perched between his shoulder and jaw.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm still coming over… Yes… Oh, she's still around." He shot her a sly wink that had her covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. "I don't know about _that_," he muttered with his expression darkening. "Mom… Mom, I gotta go… _Mom_, I gotta go. I'll talk to you in a little bit… Love you too," he mumbled into the receiver with a little blush coming to color his cheeks.

"I didn't know you were coming over today," he said while snapping his cell shut and sliding it into his pocket so that he could grab his shoes. "You just caught me on the way out."

"Oh, sorry. I guess I should have called first." He picked up on the dejected tone in her voice even though Claire kept her face carefully masked with composure.

"No, it's alright. I, um… I guess I have something to ask you anyways." Her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline, ideas racing through her head about the things he could possibly want to question. _Oh, no… Did he find one of the cameras? See René_ _following us one too many times? Has he figured out who I really am, or what I can do?_

"I'm not proposing if that's what you're worried about."

"Huh?"

"I mean, not that I wouldn't consider it… Someday…"

They locked eyes for a tense moment while attempting to feel out what page the other was on. While Claire's mind had been spinning, she had completely missed Gabriel's attempt at humor. Sensing her upset, he had tried to fix it leaving them both hopelessly confused. He continued to puzzle over her with creased brows until she offered a stunted laugh, catching on to the situation.

"Um, anyways. You know I talk to my mother a lot." Claire nodded with a plastic smile. _Everyday. At least twice. _"Well, I, um, kind of told her about you." _Great… _"And she's got it in her head now that she wants to meet you." _Uh oh. "_So, uh, since I was going over there anyways… I, um," Gabriel began to nervously fidget until she had to take his hands and physically force him to stop. "Do you want to come with me and meet my mom?"

_I've faced super powered serial killers, helped to save the world, smuggled "specials" out from under the noses of government agents, and been a member of a high school cheerleading squad. Why does the thought of meeting a guy's mom scare the crap out of me? _

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

She examined Gabriel, biting his bottom lip and looking anywhere but directly back at her. He seemed as anxious about the prospect as she was which felt oddly comforting. "Okay, I'll go." The way he lit up with a brilliant smile from ear to ear was impossible to ignore or fail to return.

* * *

><p>"She can be a little… <em>difficult<em> sometimes," Gabriel warned once they were outside of the appropriate apartment. "Just, um… Try not to touch anything. And whatever you do, don't ask about the snow globe collection or we'll never get out."

"Okay?"

With a light wrap on the door and a moment's pause, the beaming face of an older woman was revealed to them. She wore her hair back in an untidy pony tail and a frumpy gray knit sweater matching the one Gabriel had donned, leaving absolutely no mistake about her identity. "Claire, this is my mother, Virginia. Mom, this is my girlfriend, Claire Bennet."

_Girlfriend? _She looked up into his soft smile noting something like pride there. _I guess so… Weird._

"Oh, Gabriel, she's beautiful. I told you, you could get a pretty one if you tried."

"Nice to meet you." Claire made to offer her hand in greeting but Gabriel promptly batted it away before the motion could be completed. She looked up at him again and caught a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.

"Well don't just stand out of there. Come in, come in." Virginia's lingering appraisals of her appearance were far from the strangest thing in that apartment. Much like Gabriel's home, the primary means of decorations consisted of an abundance of shelving, except in lieu of an extraordinary literary collection, there were hundreds of snow globes and various knick knacks. While everything shone of meticulous cleanliness without a single speck of dust in sight, virtually every surface was also crowded with newspapers and magazines in perfectly kempt stacks. With the pungent scent of toxic cleansers in the air it wasn't hard to guess where he had picked up on his ritualistic habits even if the little apartment took on a cluttered feel.

"Here's your cat food, Mom." Virginia graciously took the roll of cans and immediately wiped them off with a rag that stirred the smell of bleach in the kitchen before arranging them into a stack on top of the refrigerator with all of the labels lined up in an outward facing display. Gabriel kept darting his eyes to Claire, studying her reactions as she took in the details of his mother and her home. It briefly occurred to her that the event may have been some kind of defining moment for him. Would she be able to accept the odd lonely nerd as well as the poor moony woman that had raised him?

"She is just so lovely," she continued, pulling Gabriel's face down to kiss him on the forehead before reaching for a bottle of sanitizer and liberally purging her hands with the abrasive substance. "I always knew my Gabriel could find somebody as special as he is." His eye twitched just slightly at something in those words.

"Where's the cat?" Claire whispered under her breath, taking a seat beside him at the table while Virginia was busy preparing something for dinner.

"She doesn't have a cat," he muttered back. She opened her mouth to ask something else but he cut her off with a, "Don't ask," and an eye roll.

"So, Claire, what do you do?"

"I, um, work for a paper company."

"Oh that sounds fascinating." _Seriously?_ "My Gabriel told me that you came to New York on a business trip. Do you get to travel often?"

"Frequently."

"That must be fun." _Sure, until you get down to the being tasered and shot at parts. "_I always told my Gabriel that he should find a job where he could do some traveling. See the world. Get some culture. Meet lots of new exotic people.

"You look a little young for a job like that. Did you just get out of college?"

_Sort of. _"I started to go for my first year, but didn't get to finish. Life kind of got in the way." _And your son._

"What college were you going to?"

"Arlington."

"Oh that's an expensive one. You must have finished high school with some good grades and scholarships."

_Not exactly. _"Well, I didn't quite get to finish high school either." Gabriel peaked a brow in silent question. "I, um, my family… We were moving around a lot at the time so I ended up dropping out and getting my G.E.D."

Virginia stopped what she was doing to give her a more critical gaze with a mouthed _Oh. _"I guess you must come from some money then to still get into a respectable school like that."

_Wouldn't really be surprised to find out that Angela or Nathan had stuck their noses into it. No, not Nathan. Nathan is gone…_ "Not really. I just test well."

"I see… My Gabriel always did well in his schooling, testing and otherwise."

"Mom." Claire wondered if it was just her imagination that put a hint of warning into his tone.

"Such a _special_ boy. He got into a good college too. All on his own merits, and -"

"_Mom_."

Virginia took his hint and changed tact. "What about your parents? What do they do?"

"Well, um, my dad is also in paper. And my mom breeds show dogs. My adoptive parents anyways."

"I didn't know you were adopted." Gabriel leaned forward in his chair to inspect her more closely as though some fresh light had been shed on her being.

_You don't know that you're adopted either. _Claire had a passing thought about mentioning that she viewed Noah and Sandra as her real parents since they were the ones that had raised her, but some little vindictive streak in her relished the way Virginia squirmed ever so slightly. "My biological parents are both gone now." Viciously biting back her tongue and tears, she swallowed blood through a tightened throat and refused to acknowledge Gabriel's downcast gaze even as his hand successfully sought hers under the table.

She must have lost a bit of her enthusiasm about the situation because Virginia didn't inquire about anything else. "Sit up straight, Gabriel." Her voice remained softly lilting and motherly but the commanding undertone was obviously apparent and he followed the instruction automatically. "It's time to wash up now. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

She watched curiously as he hopped up from his seat and headed for the sink without a second thought. Claire trailed behind him as he cast a glance over his shoulder to see that she was coming along. He plunged his hands under the faucet once the water had become hot enough to raise steam into the air, fogging the gleaming metal fixtures with condensation. Only the faintest hiss escaped his lips while he proceeded to methodically scrub the skin with an antibacterial soap as precise as any surgeon. The harsh sting of bleach filled her nostrils again when it was her turn to wash, the delicate skin of her hands turning an irritable shade of red and then fading. Virginia was frantically rubbing a damp rag over the surface of the table and chairs, no microscopic bit of grime brave enough to withstand her assault. The actions were repeated at least three times with a fervor that she had never seen before.

"Sit up straight, Gabriel," she repeated again during the course of the meal. "Your posture is just atrocious young man. I know I taught you better than that."

"Yes, ma'am."

At one point during their dinner Claire momentarily lapsed into habit, drawing back from the Grays' picture of perfect manners and caught a light slap on her knuckles from Virginia. "Proper young ladies keep their hands off the table." Gabriel didn't say anything to reprimand the action but the subtle darkening in his eyes and the way he glared up at his mother from under his brow line flagged her experienced memories. Unhealthy intentions, however brief, had been inadvertently stirred from the action. Afterwards, Virginia had suggested that Gabriel retire to the living room while the women cleaned up the kitchen. He hesitated, studying her plastic smile, but Claire nodded that she would be fine and he stalked away with his mouth set into a grim line. _If I didn't know any better I'd think Hiro dropped me into 19_56,_ instead of 2006._

"So do you plan on staying in the paper business forever?"

"Not _forever_, no." _Somehow I think I have a better grasp on the meaning of that word than you do._

"My Gabriel is a very _special _boy. Someday he's going to be a doctor. Or maybe a lawyer. Or even an astronaut." _Or a serial killer? _"He's going to really be someone important and powerful." _Lady, you have no idea. _"He's meant to do great things. And he'll meet someone just as special as he is."

Claire couldn't keep her mouth shut any longer. "Are you getting at something, Virginia?"

"Mrs. Gray," she automatically corrected. "I just don't want you to get your feelings hurt dear when he moves on. My Gabriel deserves a nice tall model or a famous actress." Her eyes glazed over with delusional glee at the thought. "A little girl from Texas that just sells paper for a living will only hold him back. You don't want to hold back my Gabriel, do you?"

_She doesn't think that _I'm_ good enough for her son? _"Of course not." Claire gave her the most false smile imaginable with a side order of gritted teeth and venom. Hastily she retreated from the kitchen in search of her reason for being there. Gabriel was nervously hunched over on the edge of the plastic-sheeted couch, his head hung low in his hands. He was startled into a more "proper" posture upon sensing her approach but he easily relaxed when he saw that it was Claire and not his mother.

"Everything okay?" he asked timidly, quirking his head to the side while his eyes wandered over her undoubtedly agitated features.

_No._ "Fine. Everything is just fine."

"Gabriel…" She flinched at the sound of the other woman's voice. He bit his lip and gave her an imploring look, almost begging her not to bolt for the door and run out of his life. Claire felt her bristles soothed under the weight of the lost puppy gaze. As long as he remained at her side then perhaps the evening would be tolerable. "Put on some music for us dear."

"Mom, we have company tonight. Can't it wait until later?"

"Gabriel, presidents should know how to dance. I'm sure that Claire would love to help you practice."

He heaved a heavy sigh of defeat and rested his forehead on her shoulder for a moment. "Sunday night," he muttered, beginning to explain the mystery of another Gray family tradition. "Dancing lesson. We've been doing it every week since I was a kid." Gabriel turned his face back up to hers and mouthed a "_sorry" _before giving her a quick peck on the cheek and heading for the ancient record player nestled in the corner.

Claire looked on, unable to repress the amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, as the would-be Boogeyman waltzed around the limited floor space with his mother to tunes that had aged long before her time. He was a surprisingly agile lead, executing steps with the characteristic textbook perfection that she had come to expect from him. _I guess if all else fails, I can always blackmail him with this later._

"I need a break. Why don't you two try together?" Virginia didn't even grant them an opportunity to refuse the prospect. She knelt down to select another album for the record player and adjusted the arm of the machine to fill the room with a few popping noises and then some kind of doo-wop music that wasn't recognizable until the lyrics came along. Gabriel extended a hand to aid Claire in her ascent from the couch, his eyes asking her to bear it for just a while longer, and he pulled her close to him for a slow number.

"_This magic moment, so different and so new, was like any other, until I met you."_

Claire was mildly startled at first by how easily they fit together despite their painfully obvious height differences. His large hands engulfed one of hers and the side of her waist. It was all too easy to ignore the rest of the world passing around them as they spun around in casual circles to the rhythm of the song. Gabriel's face was just as carefully composed as hers, but his eyes merrily twinkled with the smile hovering beyond exposure.

Who was he? The shadow of the man that she had formerly known was just as much a puzzle to her as she was to him. Tall and laden with an unassuming amount of strength, intelligent, ruggedly handsome with a hint of boyish innocence and charm. Quirky and meticulous. Shy but brave when necessary. Loyal and adoring.

"_And then it happened. It took me by surprise. I knew that you felt it too. I could see it by the look in your eyes."_

Perhaps the question wasn't 'who is he?', but rather who could he be? With history altered, who could the man before her be to the world, and what could he mean to _her_? Parts of her still screamed to resist falling into the brown depths gazing down at her with a quiet ferocity as unique as its owner, but the kinder, gentler aspects that had wanted to forgive and grant fate a second chance also fell prey to the possibilities of acceptance.

"_Everything I want, I have, whenever I hold you tight."_

He had boasted before about how much they had in common, which at the time had seemed arbitrary and twisted to his own manipulative means, but knowing more and understanding more, it became clearer all the time. Sylar was not born. Gabriel had created him out of some unfortunate need to survive. And if the roles had been reversed and Claire dealt his hand in life, she couldn't be sure that she wouldn't have been subject to similar methods. Anyone could become a killer when backed into a corner.

"_This magic moment, while your lips are close to mine will last forever. Forever, 'till the end of time."_

An obtrusive cough broke the couple out of their trance. They had completely forgotten about Virginia's presence and found themselves leaning towards one another, eyes locked and lips lingering in dangerous proximity. "I think that's enough for tonight." Claire couldn't have been happier to be leaving night. _If I had to deal with that every day for twenty years I'd become a murderer too._

Gabriel took her by surprise after they had traveled down the hall to leave his mother's apartment complex far enough to be out of earshot. He pressed her up against the wall and seized her face in his hands, capturing her lips with more passion than they had ever previously shared. When she was reasonably dazed and out of breath he pulled away to whisper a "thank you" into her ear. "For not running away screaming," he elaborated with a flirtatious grin.

She reached out to hold his face, falling into his eyes all over again until her phone rang. "Hello?" she answered, biting her lip to stifle the laughter that was threatening to bubble up when he nuzzled her neck, scraping the soft skin with his stubble that had begun to reappear.

"Claire. This is René. I thought you should know that Dr. Suresh just arrived in New York."

**To be continued...**


	11. Save Me, Maybe

**11**

**Save Me, Maybe**

* * *

><p><em>February 29, 2006 - 15 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

"_Claire!" Noah shouted to her, keeping his weapon trained on their target. "Do it, Claire! He's a killer!"_

"_Please, Claire." Sylar implored her, leaning forward on his knees to take hold of the revolver's barrel. He slowly moved the firearm up his stomach until it was held to his chest in her trembling fingers, just over his heart. "If I have to die today, I want you to be the one to do it." He shifted nervously when Noah took another step closer, finding his aim past his daughter. "Please, Claire. I don't want to be a monster."_

"_I can't," she sobbed. Tears streamed down her face as her shoulders shook and her stomach churned irritably. He thumbed away the evidence of her torment and watched helplessly as her mouth opened and closed stumbling for the right words to say. "I need to tell you something."_

"_Shoot, Claire!" her father shouted again._

_She never got the opportunity to spill her secrets. Noah took another step and Sylar's fingers found hers in the metallic trigger loop. "Do it, Claire! Kill me!"_

"_I'm sorry."_

Angela bolted upright in her chair with the dreamy echo of a gun shot still ringing in her ears. "Claire Bennet is here to see you now, Mrs. Petrelli."

"Send her in please," she answered, clicking off the intercom and leaning back into a relaxed position. Claire nervously twisted around in her seat several minutes later while her grandmother examined the file of information gathered on their target. "You've spent two weeks with Mr. Gray now and all you can report to me is that he favors peach pie?"

"There's nothing else to tell. He's just…"

"Gabriel?"

"Yeah." Angela gave her a scrutinizing once over and nodded knowingly. Claire fidgeted anxiously under the weight of the older woman's gaze, blurting out her explanation for the proposed change in mission plans and hoping that it wouldn't sound completely absurd when spoken aloud. After all, she was attempting to convince her to allow her son's future murderer to remain alive. "He is currently unaware of his capabilities and I think we should just focus on keeping it that way. If we could keep Suresh from -"

"I agree," she shrewdly noted with pursed lips. "It wouldn't do to throw away someone that could potentially be a valuable asset if there were another alternative."

"Gabriel isn't a toy," Claire glared. "He's a person. A human being."

"And not something to be manipulated?" Angela shot her a mocking smile of saccharine sweetness that didn't touch her eyes at all. "Tell me, Claire dear, what exactly is it that you think you've been doing this whole time? You've been gaining Mr. Gray's trust. Getting close to him and maneuvering him into a vulnerable position just as your original parameters instructed. At any moment you could have the access to terminate him should a threat become tangible. So please, Claire, tell me who has really been _manipulating_ whom?"

She couldn't help but recoil at the ugly truth in the accusation. While Claire repeatedly opened and shut her mouth, fumbling for the right words to say, Angela continued. "I'll approve of this little idea of yours. For now. However, I am placing the responsibility of keeping Mr. Gray under control in your hands as well as the methods of removing Chandra from the equation. If a single life is lost because of a failure in this plan, you will _immediately_ terminate Mr. Gray and not another word will be said about it. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, ma'am." She was forced to savagely chew on the inside of her bottom lip in order to avoid beaming a grin from ear to ear at her more stern counterpart.

"Angela, dear," a deep gravely male voice sounded from the door. Claire turned to see her very alive paternal grandfather stepping halfway into the office. "We have our reservations and it's getting late," he chided while tapping on the glass of an obscenely expensive wrist watch to demonstrate his point. "Hello, Claire," he greeted without hesitation. It wasn't any great surprise that he would know about her adventure through time or the details of their scheme, but the shock of seeing the future villain in the flesh caused her eyebrows to rocket upwards into her hairline.

"I'll only be another moment, Arthur," Angela assured with a light smile. There was an odd vibe hovering in the air between them all. Arthur Petrelli hadn't failed to notice his biological granddaughter's negative reaction to his presence, and neither had Angela, but no questions would be asked and no warnings would be issued.

"If all else fails we could just adopt him," Arthur chuckled without humor in reference to the target of the women's previous discussion. _Oh my God… Did he just read my mind?_

"Oh, honestly, where do you get these ideas?" Angela answered with a jovial roll of her eyes. A moment passed where he simply stood there staring at his wife. She had no doubt that he was gleaning some kind of unspoken information from her mind, perhaps more references to the future that Claire had lived or those which her grandmother surely dreamed about.

Arthur nodded quietly, a not so subtle smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as he turned his attention back to Claire. "Don't worry. Everything will turn out exactly like it's supposed to." _What the heck does that mean? _"Angela, don't forget about the reservations. Good-bye, Claire."

_That wasn't awkward or anything, _she thought to herself as her grandfather exited as silently as he had entered muttering something about _empathy_ and being _interesting_. "I believe we're finished here." Angela dismissed her with the instruction that she should send her father in before leaving.

"Angela," Noah nodded in greeting, taking the seat before her desk.

"Noah."

"I take it you're on board with Claire's change in plans?"

"And what makes you say that?"

"It could have been the grin she was wearing, or the way she skipped down the hall."

Angela wore her own little smirk in response. "I do believe that girl is getting attached to her target."

"Unfortunately," Noah agreed with a downtrodden frown.

"It does make things more difficult, but no. The plan has not changed at all. We're still very much on track."

"But?"

"I've already seen how this is going to play out and my dream was quite clear."

"So Gabriel Gray _is_ going to die?"

"I never said that."

"But that was the whole plan. Send Claire back in time. Assassinate him while he's powerless. Save your son and who knows how many other people…"

"Noah, Noah, Noah…" she sighed with a twisted twinkle in her eye. "Do you know what the butterfly effect is?"

"When you change one event in time and alter the course of history."

"Yes. If we can change just _one_ little detail, one event, we could change _everything_. The trick is just finding the right butterfly to crush."

"So… Gabriel Gray lives even though the plan to kill him is still in progress…"

"I never said that either. At least, not in the way you're thinking."

"I'm thoroughly confused."

"Well, you know what they say. It's never good to know too much about the future."

* * *

><p>Claire immediately flung herself into his arms the moment Gabriel opened his door. Her grocery bags flopped over his back while her hands eagerly looped over his shoulders and her lips smothered him with giddy enthusiasm. She pulled back after a moment to take in the silent shock of pleasant surprise written across his features. "I come bearing gifts," she said, wagging the two bags with a mischievous smile. "I thought we should celebrate so I brought frozen pizza and some cheap, awful beer."<p>

"I was starting to think that you weren't coming back. After Virginia's the other night… I thought maybe you had decided to run away after all." The tone of his voice was light and airy as though he were attempting humor, but the half-hearted smile and sullen look in his eyes told her another story. Gabriel had missed her. Claire couldn't exactly explain to him that she had spent her time since their last meeting fanatically stalking an Indian geneticist that had just entered the county in hopes of seeking out an ill-fated 'patient zero' for supernatural power experiments though. That would just sound crazy.

She could however, distract him with a dose of affection that he always seemed to crave and had been recently deprived of. "Don't worry. You can't get rid of me that easy," she mumbled, each word breaking another grinning kiss. "You're stuck with me for-" _No. Not forever. You can't live forever._ There was an odd, completely unexpected pang of sadness to accompany that thought. Claire was quick to shake off any inner turmoil before her companion could pick up on the darkening of her emotional state.

Gabriel was blissfully oblivious to anything other than her words though. He didn't seem put out in any way by the thought of being "stuck" with her for any length of time. "I assume you got your client then? If there's a reason to celebrate?"

"I most certainly did, and tonight we're going to party like it's 1999!" He quirked a questioning brow at her. "You know… like the song? Prince? Oh, come on! That's like pop culture one-oh-one!" She narrowed her eyes at him as he shook his head. "You _really_ need to get a TV."

He laughed off her declaration, citing that television was a common cause of brain rot while Claire busied herself with preheating his oven. "I used to drive my brother crazy playing that song over and over."

"You never mentioned having a brother before."

"Yeah, Lyle. He's back in Cal-Texas with Mom."

"I guess you'll be going back there. Now that you've got your guy and all." She turned around to view an expression plastered to his face like a mental storm cloud had gathered just over his head.

"I don't know… I might be staying for a while longer."

"What about your family? Larry?"

"Lyle." Something about the way his arms were crossed and his lip puckered out into a pout resembled a child ready to throw a temper tantrum. "Well… You know… I kind of have a reason to stick around now… And who knows? I might have to keep other people away from my client. Paper can be a very demanding job."

Gabriel perked up slightly at the thought but moderately remained in sulk mode. "And besides," Claire started again, moving in for a hug, "I have family here in New York too. Remember the whole being stuck with me thing?"

She couldn't remember exactly when it was that their lips began touching, only that it felt as though they had always been there in that way. She couldn't remember when the pizza had been forgotten, or the moment they had left the kitchen; only the strength in his hands when they gripped the backs of her thighs to lift her, and the security of being in his arms while he carried her to the couch. Claire couldn't really remember anything except the electric tingling ripping down her spine with his kiss and the desperate flushing of her skin in the wake of his touch. The warm weight of his body over hers, molding to her form was oddly comforting, building an altogether foreign sense of instinctual need within her. Strangled gasps of breath fell on deaf ears as her hands roamed the planes of his back and calloused fingers kneaded massaging circles into her ribs and down the path of her stomach. As with all things, his innate ability of understanding allowed him to navigate her body flawlessly, finding bundles of over sensitized nerves that screamed for attention.

It was only when the sound of the button popping on her jeans, breaking the waves of erratic panting, that either party partially returned to reality. Her hand found the back of his to halt the progress it was making. "We should stop," he mumbled against her neck in agreement with her silent protest. Gabriel sat up to run a frustrated hand through his already disheveled hair and met her questioning gaze. "I, um. I don't… I don't have any… you know." Claire continued to stare in a way that pressed him into self-conscious fidgeting. "It's been a while, okay?"

A stifled snicker escaped her. Gabriel scowled at her beyond the rosy tint of his blushing before slowly succumbing to a bout of self-deprecating humor. Together they shared a round of hearty laughter complete with sparse snorts that made them laugh even more.

Several hours later Claire woke to still darkness. She blinked her eyes a few times to adjust to the low light while she remembered where she was. A light blanket was draped over her shoulders and an arm hooked over her lower back, a warm body steadily rising and falling with breath below her. Gabriel's glasses glinted dully in the moonlight from the side table, his copy of _Pillars of the Earth _slung over the back of the couch, and the side of his face buried in the plastic covered cushion. She had dozed off during his reading, the baritone rumble of his voice in his chest and the steady beat of his heart lulling her to sleep sweeter than any lullaby.

Claire had never really noticed before how young he looked. She ghosted her fingers over his smooth complexion, the lines of thickly set hair, the dark curve of lashes resting over his cheek bones, and the fullness of his lips. Even with the ever present shadow of stubborn facial hair, Gabriel appeared soft in the peace of slumber. Innocent. Something that _Sylar_ would have never allowed another person to witness.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself, slipping back into pleasant dreams without a single fear for her security. _I can save you._

**To Be Continued...**


	12. Wrong Number

**12**

**Wrong Number**

* * *

><p><em>March 6, 2006 - 9 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

Gabriel rolled over, patting the space beside himself and groaned at the coolness of the cushion there. He cracked open his drowsy eyes and confirmed his suspicions. She was gone already. Again. Claire had made a routine out of departing for work in the early hours of the morning before he woke. Not even the weekend had been an exception. He rubbed the fuzz out of his vision and swung his legs over the edge of the couch, taking his time to stretch and work the kinks out of his back with a worrisome succession of popping sounds. Sleeping on the sofa, as wonderful as it had been to have Claire by his side, was incredibly uncomfortable on an aging spine.

He poked his head into the kitchen and then into the bedroom to make absolutely sure that she had already left before shedding yesterday's clothing. He grabbed himself a towel from the linen closet and stubbed a toe on the leg of an end table she had moved the day before. _I really need to clean this place up before Mom comes for the laundry later, _he mused to himself in equal parts of amusement and irritation as he tripped over a misplaced pair of Claire's shoes on his way to the partially overflowing hamper. Once finished with his morning shower, Gabriel was forced to actively search for his razor amongst the various products that she had somehow managed to stockpile in the medicine cabinet.

_Mousse, gel, pomade, more gel, hair spray, _another_ brand of styling gel. Just how much crap does she really need for her hair? Eye liner, mascara, concealer. God, how much makeup does she wear? Disposable razors… Torture device? _he wondered, fiddling with an eyelash curler._ Tweezers. The tweezers might be disappearing today. What the? _He pulled out an unfamiliar looking object like a small tube in a white plastic wrapper. Naturally curious about things that he had never seen before, especially when in reference to Claire, he turned the device over in his fingers for study. Unfortunately the dawning of understanding that came out of the experience was most unexpected and more than a little unpleasant. "Oh jeez!" he cried out, dropping the feminine hygiene product like it had the power to physically burn him.

_Wax. Huh. I wonder what she's using this for? _He immediately slapped himself to shake away the dirty thought that crossed his mind of its own accord. _Heat in warm water? _A few minutes later Gabriel was giggling quietly at the image of himself with the little scrap of cloth stuck between his eyebrows. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the edge of the wax strip and yanked. Somewhere down the hall an elderly neighbor had to cover her ears for protection from the string of unabashed profanities.

"Gabriel?"

_Crap._

"Gabriel, dear, are you alright?"

"Yes, Mom. I'm fine. I, uh… I just got out of the shower, and I need a minute to get dressed before you take the laundry please." _Crap. Crap. Double crap._

While Virginia busied herself with flitting around the kitchen, Gabriel hurriedly stuffed the hair dryer, curling iron, and accessories back into the cabinet anywhere they would fit. Dashing across to his bedroom, he kicked Claire's shoes through the door so that he didn't have to drop the towel around his waist. He zipped around the room as quickly as possible to retrieve Claire's discarded clothing. Blouses haphazardly slung over his bed, jeans crumpled on the floor, and a skirt that was flung carelessly onto a lampshade were all stuffed back into her duffel bag that she had brought them in.

Cracking open his closet with a heavy sigh of relief, he thumbed through his own set of shirts and trousers only to discover the bright yellow sundress she had worn for their date a few nights before. He pulled on his pants and returned the dress to Claire's bag. Turning over the hamper, he tossed contents about for her socks and any other trace that she might have left behind. A crippling blush crept over his cheeks and down his neck when he came across some rather lacy undergarments. He hesitated to pick them up, dancing nervously around the subject before logically deciding that the situation would only become worse if Virginia were to see them. Hastily tossing the underwear into her bag, Gabriel found a particularly scandalous pair of underwear that appeared to be nothing more than nearly transparent red lace in the form of extremely short shorts.

_I wonder when she wears these… _Slapping himself again for his racy imagination, he began to throw them away with the others before pausing to feel the soft fabric between his fingers. He pulled a face for a moment and stuffed the panties into the very bottom drawer of his nightstand. _I'm going to hell for this._

The bedroom started to slowly creak open in warning of his mother's approach. "Gabriel?" Virginia popped her head inside just as he finished kicking Claire's duffel beneath his bed and out of view. "Have you been falling asleep reading again? You know that's terrible for your back to sleep on the couch that way."

"Yes, Mother. I'm _very_ well aware of this."

Virginia squinted her eyes at him, cocking her head to the side with a frown. "Did you do something to your eyebrows dear? They look strange."

_I'll worry about being a deviant later._

* * *

><p>Gabriel was nearly ready to close up his shop for the day when the gleam of blonde hair shining in the sunlight caught his attention at the window. Claire strolled by spreading a smile on his face that stretched from ear to ear. It never ceased to amaze him that she kept returning day after day. Wandering inside the store, she mindlessly took her usual lounging position against the counter, waiting for him to finish his business while thoroughly engrossed in what appeared to be a Rubik's cube.<p>

"Hello," he greeted cheerfully, leaning over to give her a peck on the temple to which she responded with a half-hearted grunt. "Tough day at the office?" She mumbled an incoherent reply. "I got something for you today that will cheer you up. Maybe… I hope." Claire growled in frustration, continuing to aimlessly click away pieces of the checkered cube in no kind of reasonable pattern that he could discern.

"My dad told me he's leaving town tomorrow to go back home. He said the Company told him I was supposed to handle operations from now on," she finally managed to grit out.

"Oh," he mouthed deflatedly, beginning to understand her dejected attitude. "I, uh. I was kind of… I sort of hoped that I would get to meet him." Claire glanced back at him questioningly. "Well, I mean since you met my mother and all… I guess I figured that… You know, never mind. It's not important."

"You _want_ to meet Noah?"

"…Does he not… know about me? I mean, uh, if you didn't tell him about me… I, um. I understand." _She's embarrassed by me._ "It's really not important at all." _I'm sure I wouldn't be in a big rush to admit dating me either._

He must have failed to hide the sense of shame in his eyes because her demeanor quickly relaxed into a much more sympathetic one. "No! No it's not like that at all. Noah… Noah most definitely knows _all_ about you." Having finally succeeded in obtaining her attention as well as a comfortable amount of reassurance, Gabriel leaned in to steal a kiss when something else captured her line of sight. "Oh shit." He didn't even have time to blink before she dove over the side of the counter. Just as he was about to ask her what she thought she was doing, a customer entered the shop. Claire gave him a pleading look with her finger pressed against her lips to beg for his silence.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, he observed the potential client, a man appearing to be roughly his own age but several inches shorter in stature with long dark hair that hung down into his eyes in a way that he judged to be rather juvenile in nature. "Hello. How can I help you today?"

"Hey," the other man greeted with a crooked smile as he removed his sunglasses. "My dad sent me to get his old pocket watch fixed." He strolled casually over to the counter and pulled the item in question from the satchel draped over his shoulder, handing it over for Gabriel to look at. "He was pretty insistent that I bring it to you. He seems to think that you're the best with these things."

Turning the gold plated time piece over in his hands, he flipped it open to look at the ornate set of dials within. "You must have come quite a way to get here."

"Manhattan. How'd you guess?"

"This isn't the kind of item I get to see everyday." _It's probably worth more money than I've made in the last decade. Wow, even the insides are real gold._

"So… Think you can fix it for us?"

"Yeah I can, but I don't know that I can find exactly matching parts to work with. To be honest I've never even seen parts made out of gold like this before."

"Oh. Well, um, he didn't really say anything about that. He just said that it was important to him. Hang on, I'll call him real quick." A shiny silver cell phone came from the side satchel for use. "Hey, Dad? Yeah I'm here now. Gray and Sons, right? Okay yeah. Yes he can fix it, but he doesn't know that he can find parts for it… Really? _Okay_. Alright, I'll be by in about an hour or so then." The phone snapped shut and was plunged back into its hiding place. "I guess that thing really _must_ be sentimental or something. He says he'll pay whatever you want. He just wants it fixed."

For a moment Gabriel was afraid that Claire would have to pick up his jaw for him whenever it finished hitting the floor. "Um, uh, can I - can I get your name please? For the paperwork?"

"Sure. Peter Petrelli."

As soon as Peter had exited the store Gabriel slumped over the counter having completely forgotten about Claire until she popped up beside him. She mumbled something about the event being a "close one_",_ gaining his immediate interest all over again.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about or do I even want to know?"

"You remember how I told you about having family here in New York?" He nodded, remembering the vague mention of relatives. "That was my uncle."

"Is there a particular reason why you're hiding from your uncle?"

"We're not exactly on speaking terms right now."

_I knew there was a reason why I didn't like that guy. _

"Anyways," she muttered, starting to click away at the Rubik's cube again, "We can probably meet up with my dad tomorrow before he leaves. If you still want to meet him?"

"Of course I do," he answered jovially. His day was getting brighter by the minute. "And I, uh. I still have that present for you too." She didn't even glance up from her toy, his words almost visibly flying in one ear and out the other. "Oh for -" Gabriel snatched the Rubik's cube from her hands, ignoring her protests. He spent about ten seconds analyzing the puzzle and exerted another fifteen in solving it, clicking the last matching row of colored squares into place for her astonished eyes to witness.

"I'm sorry," she apologized while making one of the faces that she knew he couldn't resist. "I've just been working on that thing all day. What did you want to say?"

"It's more like a question," he mumbled. The blush was returning to his cheeks with burning intensity. He couldn't believe how nervous he suddenly was. Gabriel fetched a small black box from his coat pocket, fumbling with it in anxious hands. "I - I, um. I was… I, uh." Claire reached out to still his fidgeting and took the box into her own hands. He couldn't read the expression on her face and it was only causing more distress. _She doesn't look happy. But she doesn't look… When did I stop breathing? _He forced himself to take a deep breath to clear the swimming sensation of lightheadedness. "It's just, uh…"

Claire cracked open the box to take a timid peek inside, a beaming smile emerging once she saw the contents. "Are you asking me to move in with you?" She held up the brand new, never before used key to demonstrate her query.

"Well, um. It's just, uh." His stuttered ramblings were silenced by the lips pressing against his. "I just thought that maybe if you ever wanted somewhere else to stay besides the hotel…" _Not that you've been sleeping there at all this week. _Another kiss. "Besides, you've already taken control of my bathroom." Kiss. "And my bedroom for that matter."

"Let's go home."

"I like the way that sounds."

* * *

><p>Claire busied herself with putting away the fresh laundry that Virginia had done earlier that afternoon while Gabriel clattered around in the kitchen. Delicious dinner smells wafted through the apartment causing her stomach to groan irritably with ravenous hunger. It really had been a long day. Tracking Dr. Suresh was proving to be much more difficult than she had initially anticipated. The poor man was hopelessly absentminded and much less methodical in his workings than Mohinder had ever been. She had nearly lost him twice just that day because he seemed to have developed a terrible habit of backtracking. Whether that was his own way of getting around or an intentional bait for any Company agents that might be waiting for him, she couldn't be sure.<p>

The trilling ring of Gabriel's phone interrupted her train of thought. Knowing that he was in the middle of fixing their dinner, Claire jaunted over to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, Ms. My name is Dr. Chandra Suresh and I'm looking for a Mr. Gabriel Gray. Is he available?"

Her stomach was no longer rumbling with hunger because it had frozen solid with fear. "I'm sorry. There's no one here by that name," she rushed out, slamming the phone down before she could be rebuked.

"Who was that?" Gabriel asked, peering around the corner.

"Nobody. Wrong number."

**To be continued...**


	13. Tonight, We Dine in Hell

**13**

**Tonight, We Dine In Hell**

* * *

><p><em>March 7, 2006 - 8 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

"I don't know what you're up to, Angela, but you need to stop," Claire hissed into the receiver of her cell phone.

"Claire, I can assure you that I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sending Peter to give Gabriel a gold plated watch to fix? _Really_?"

"You know that was all Arthur's doing. And you should be more appreciative. Having a friend like Bob Bishop can be advantageous."

"You actually thought that I would appreciate that? Do you have _any_ idea how close I came to having Peter see me there?"

"Gabriel Gray will have a lot of traveling to do in the future and it's quite difficult to manage something like that on a watchmaker's salary. As for Peter, I had already seen the interaction and knew that it would work out exactly as it was supposed to."

"Claire, hand me the screwdriver," Noah grunted. She glanced around the hall for any potential witnesses before passing the requested tool to her father.

"What do you _mean _he's going to be traveling?"

"That isn't important right now. I can assure you that everything will be the way it is meant to be though. And Claire? Be careful not to bleed on the carpet when you break the door knob."

"Door knob, what?" The line went dead. "She hung up on me. I can't believe she just hung up on me like that."

"We're in," Noah announced, rising to his feet and pocketing the screwdriver after finishing picking the lock to Chandra Suresh's apartment. Claire snapped her cell phone shut and stepped inside with her father directly after her, taking care to shut the door quietly behind them. Boxes still littered the corners of the dingy little space from moving and papers were strewn about chaotically on every available surface. A large map of the United States had been tacked to the wall with a few sparse pictures and lengths of yarn attached to it.

"He's already started looking for them," Claire whispered darkly.

"I'm not sure that's a bad thing, Claire Bear. If we can manage to get his attention off of Gray then he'll have someone else to focus on. What all are we looking for here?" She moved over to the map, running her fingers over the colorful strings and observing the few profile pictures that had been collected so far. Locating a somewhat fuzzy photo of Gabriel taken from a distance in the area of New York state, she ripped it from the map and removed the tack that had held it in place as though it had never existed there.

"Contact information. Phone numbers, addresses, ability research. Anything that might lead him back to Gabriel."

Noah tossed through the papers on Suresh's worn desk and thumbed through his appointment book while Claire ripped out pages of a notebook she had found in a box and flipped through the files on a small lap top. "Dad, look at this," she called him over.

"Huh," he mumbled, leaning over her shoulder to scroll down through an indexed catalogue of names for potential abilities. "That could be very useful for the Company."

"Dad, no." Noah gave her a cross look. "Claire, you work for the Company now. This isn't the kind of information you can withhold from them."

"_No_. I'm not going to let all these people be rounded up for _'bagging and tagging' _or to be experimented on."

"Claire," he warned in his most fatherly voice.

"No," she insisted again.

"They'll be found out eventually anyways."

"That's eventually. In the mean time they're just people. _People like me_," she enunciated clearly to get her point across. "If my name was on this list would you just hand it over?"

"Of course not." Bennet sighed and relented. "I guess I'll have to get René to wipe my memory of this. If one of the telepaths found out that I knew about it and didn't say anything..." Claire nodded in understanding. The memory of having to watch the Haitian shoot her father for protecting her from the Company was still a little too fresh.

"I can't delete his name out of here." A cell phone rang out noisily and they both instantly reached for theirs to quiet the call.

"René?" Noah answered his. "We're almost done here... Alright. Thanks for the notice." He hung up and turned a worried look to the computer. "We don't have time for this. Suresh is on his way back now."

"I have to get his name out of here!"

"Claire, we don' t have time."

"Wait," she cried out. "Give the screwdriver." The tool was slightly too big for her required task, hindering her work, but one by one the fixtures on the bottom of the lap top fell to the side of the desk. Noah tapped his foot impatiently, glancing down at his watch where their time was running short. Claire yanked out the computer's hard drive causing the screen to flicker once and then shut down completely so that the information could not be retrieved again and held it up for him to see. "The system is on this! We'll just take the whole thing and destroy it later." The duo dashed for the door and Claire dropped the drive. In her haste to pick it back up, she lost her footing and slammed the top of her head on the bottom of the door knob hard enough to bend the metal.

"Are you alright?" Noah asked with knitted brows, watching in a bit of dazed awe as the wound almost instantly closed and flushed out into new pink skin.

"Fine. Go! I can't bleed on the carpet," she ordered, palming the side of her face where a stream of bright red blood had already stopped flowing from the gash. They managed to escape into the hall of the apartment complex just in time to hide out in a janitorial closet before Chandra strolled down the path to his doorway.

"Darn this lock," they could hear the geneticist cursing on the other side of the door.

"That was a close one," Noah mumbled under his breath, handing his daughter a handkerchief to clean the side of her face with.

"Too close," Claire quietly agreed as she wiped away the sticky residue of her blood. "We should get going. I think it's clear now." She popped her head out of the closet door to take a look and stepped out, signaling that the coast was indeed clear. "We've only got about an hour before we're supposed to meet Gabriel and I should probably get a shower in first."

"I hope this guy is worth all the trouble, Claire."

She didn't even pause to think about it. Claire turned quietly to look her father in the eye. "He is."

* * *

><p>"I hope I wasn't supposed to bring anything," Noah grumbled, working to straighten his tie.<p>

"Dad," she whined, automatically moving her hands to calm his fidgeting the same way she would for Gabriel. "He just wants to meet you. It's not a big deal. So _don't_ embarrass me," she added with a pointed finger.

"All the hoops we're jumping through, you'd think this was a real relationship." Something in her eyes had him quirking a suspicious brow. "This _is_ just work, right Claire Bear? There's a reason why we're not supposed to get _too_ close."

"Hello." Gabriel answered the door with a nervous smile the second Claire audibly knocked, thankfully interrupting her from addressing her father's inquiry.

"Dad, this is Gabriel Gray. Gabriel, this is my father, Noah Bennet."

"It's really nice to finally meet you, Mr. Bennet," Gabriel rushed, excitedly extending his hand for a shake that Noah executed without hesitation.

"Likewise."

"Please, come in. Come in." _So this is what he must have felt like when I met Virginia, _Claire thought to herself as Gabriel graciously took their coats and offered drinks, carefully watching their reactions to one another.

"I'll just have coffee. Decaf, please," Noah said, taking a seat at the table.

"Gabriel?" Claire automatically flinched at the voice that came from somewhere at the back of the apartment. _Speak of the devil…_

"Oh the company is here!" Virginia came flitting into the kitchen, bringing the astringent scent of bleach with her to assault their noses and a moony grin plastered to her lips.

"Mother, this is Noah Bennet, Claire's father," Gabriel began introducing them all over again. "And this is Virginia Gray, my mother."

"How do you do?" she smiled after Noah, extending a weathered hand in greeting.

"Quite well," he returned with a modest shake and a sideways glance for his daughter who was just as surprised about the other woman's appearance as he was. Everyone politely ignored the antibacterial bottle that was brought out of her pocket to purge her hands with after making contact with another person.

"We didn't know _she_ was going to be here," Claire whispered under her breath, attempting to restrain the disdain in her tone as she assisted Gabriel with getting everyone a refreshment.

"The apartment was a mess. I couldn't get rid of her," he sullenly apologized. "But with it being your father's last night in town, I thought that maybe it wouldn't hurt anything to have everyone get acquainted. Besides, we don't exactly get company that often. Look how happy she is." He cast an amused half-smile towards their parents, Noah nodding stiffly and sipping at his coffee while Virginia animatedly chatted away. A small stab of guilt struck her. Seeing his mother happy was something that made Gabriel happy as well and she couldn't deny him that.

"Claire tells me that you're the man with the plan at the Company," Gabriel stated cheerfully, taking a seat next to his mother at the table so that they could all join in the conversation. Noah, being an experienced agent of nearly twenty years never faltered in his part, smoothly laughing the modest compliment away, but Claire didn't miss his rather pointed look in her direction.

"He was the inspiration behind me joining Primatech Paper," she added with an underhanded insinuation.

"Well you know, it's not just paper that we're selling," Noah became deadly serious. "It's _government_ paper." Gabriel swallowed thickly when he shot a sharp look in his direction.

After dinner Claire and Gabriel remained in the kitchen to clean up the dishes while Noah and Virginia retired into the living room to hold a private contest over which parent could brag about their child more. "My Gabriel tests at genius levels," Virginia arrogantly boasted.

"Really? That is impressive. Claire Bear was crowned Homecoming Queen," Noah smirked with a subtle roll of his eyes. _And she's probably not going to turn into a psychopathic murderer, _she could just imagine him thinking.

"Well, this hasn't been awkward or anything."

"It could be worse," Gabriel grinned, leaning in. "It could be a Sunday night dancing lesson." His low voice was velvet seduction in her ears, awarding him a not-so-brief kiss. "Do you think they would miss us if we disappeared for a few minutes?"

"Doubt it," Claire sighed.

"My Gabriel is a very _special_ boy. He's going to be somebody of real importance someday."

"Claire is _already special _and _important_ to everybody that knows her."

"He's right you know," Gabriel noted, pulling back from listening in on the other conversation. He combed his fingers through her hair, bringing them to rest on the sides of her jaw so that he could tilt her face up to look at him. "You are special." Kiss. "And important." Kiss. "Especially to me." She couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face if she had wanted to.

"You're special to me too."

Gabriel pulled her into his arms, content to just be there, existing with her head resting against his chest and the smell of her hair lingering in his nose. "I want to show you something."

A few minutes of him leading her by the hand later, they stepped through a small maintenance hatch out onto the roof of the apartment complex. "I've never taken anyone up here before. This is completely against all the rules. And maybe a little illegal, I'm not sure," he smiled mischievously.

"Look at you, breaking all the rules and being a bad boy," she flirted back.

"It does make it a little more exciting, doesn't it?" He lead her out to the barrier wall around the edge of the roof. What seemed like an endless sea of winking lights sprawled out before them creating a brilliant orange ambience from the city below. "This is where I like to go to think," he whispered, happily basking in her silent appreciation of his secret place more than the actual view. "It's kind of powerful in a way. To be able to look down on the people out there, moving through their ordinary lives one day at a time."

"I always liked getting that feeling flying. There's nothing like the wind in your hair and the moonlight on your face like freedom. And then it hits you," Claire sighed.

"What does?"

"Being different. Being able to see the world the way nobody else can because no matter how hard you try you'll always be different from them. Isolated."

"You don't have to be." Their eyes met with a thousand complexities of unspoken questions for haunting answers and half-understandings. "Isolated," Gabriel explained, lacing the fingers of his hand with hers. "I know that feeling. To be different from everyone around you even though you're not sure why. Like you're meant for something more. Something big. I can feel it in my bones like it's calling out to me, especially when I'm with you." He chuckled darkly at the absurdity of the thought. "All of my life I've wanted to be someone else. Somewhere else. Living another life with another family. Anything but insignificant Gabriel Gray, the invisible watchmaker from Queens."

"You've never been invisible to me."

"And you never have to be alone, Claire." He started to say something else, but it didn't seem important when compared to the feeling of her curling up in his arms. Before they knew it, a comforting sway and joined hands had become a slowly revolving dance for two under overcast stars and the beat of a heart as unique as their own.

"My Gabriel is going to be President of the United States someday." Claire could have sworn that she heard Noah slip up and mutter something about "_not if I can help it"._

"_Mom_," Gabriel grumbled in a vain attempt to rein in her fantasies. They had immediately sensed the tension building between their parents upon reentering the living space and set to diffuse the situation before a full-blown argument could break out. The couple both lead their respective parents aside mouthing "sorry" to one another.

"That woman is… _infuriating_," Noah seethed. All traces of the smooth Company man had evaporated after less than twenty minutes alone with Virginia Gray.

"Yeah," Claire agreed with a smirking smile. "Think about how poor Gabriel feels. He's been dealing with that alone on a daily basis for the last twenty-plus years."

"I think I understand why he went insane and started killing people." She couldn't help it. The laughter came from a deep, dark place within and bubbled out over her lips before she could even hope to hold it back. It wasn't really a humorous thought, but at the same time it was. After a cross look and a reproachful glare Noah began cracking up beside her as well and all of the anxiety melted away.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Claire Bear. I understand that now." Perhaps it wasn't exactly the blessing she had secretly hoped for, but for Noah Bennet to admit that he understood at least one of the reasons why she wanted to save Gabriel… That was a step; small, but in the right direction. "I still want you to be careful though when I'm gone. Keep both eyes open and your gun ready."

Thinking back to their earlier conversation on the roof, Claire had to agree. She didn't want to ever have to pull that trigger but her duty to their kind at large was greater than either of them. There was a beast lurking within the potential killer and it was her responsibility to keep it under close lock and key. "I will," she promised.

Noah might have lost his temper with the hair-brained woman that had raised Gabriel, but the agent was still dominate in his personality. He didn't lose a beat when Claire left his side to smooth over the situation with Gabriel and his mother. Extracting the wad of chewing gum that he had secreted away in the space between his gum and cheek, he attached a small camera to the sticky substance and covertly tossed it up onto the top shelf of a bookcase so that it would observe the entire living room and beyond. He wouldn't be able to protect his Claire Bear in person, but he could still keep a weather eye out for his little girl.

* * *

><p>"I, uh - I'm <em>really<em> sorry about that, Mr. Bennet," Gabriel apologized profusely. "She can be, um…"

"Difficult," Claire finished for him.

"Yeah."

"I understand perfectly," Noah nodded and waved the concern away. "You should have met _my_ mother-in-law. Now she was -"

"Don't talk about Nanna that way!" Claire chided, lightly smacking him on the arm for his candor towards her grandmother.

When he was ready to leave for his plane, Noah pulled Gabriel aside for a private word. "I know that you know my daughter is a very special young woman."

"Yes, Sir." Gabriel instantly tensed, wary of where the conversation could be going.

"Claire is tough. She has seen and survived things that I don't ever want to imagine for her."

"Yes, Sir." A wealth of information about the future ghosted heavily between them, both men haunted with memories that didn't belong to them. They shared a look for the patiently frustrated blonde on the sofa, wincing as she undoubtedly struggled to hold her tongue against Virginia's abusive onslaught.

"Claire is a survivor, but she can still be hurt." The two men locked gazes. "_Don't_ hurt my little girl." His underlying threat was perfectly clear. Surprisingly however, instead of serving the purpose of intimidation as intended, the sentiment caused Gabriel's defiant temper to flare. His eyes burned into Noah's with equal intensity in a stubborn standoff.

"Dad, are you ready to go? Your plane leaves in an hour."

"Yes, Claire. I believe we're done here."

"Hey." Gabriel grabbed her arm as she was heading out the door. "Do you want me to wait up for you? Tonight?"

She glanced back towards her father heading down the hall and sighed. "It's probably best if I just stay at the hotel tonight."

"You haven't told him yet, have you."

"Have you told Virginia?" Claire tossed his judgment right back at him, crossing her arms over her chest, unmoving. His silence was answer enough. "Didn't think so. I'll see you tomorrow, Gabriel."

"Wait," he grabbed her again, spinning her around into him so that he could wrap his arms around her. "I'll miss you," he whispered into her ear, smoothing her hair away from her face.

"I'll miss you too." Gabriel leaned down, palming either side of her face and placed an earnest kiss on her lips. Claire closed her eyes for the moment, but he kept his wide open and daringly focused on Noah's furious gaze the entire time.

* * *

><p>"I just don't understand what kind of person would do such a thing," Chandra complained to the policeman that was taking his theft report over the phone. "Things of value? No, nothing like a television. I'm not sure you understand, Sir. It was my <em>research<em> that was stolen. Yes, _that_ is quite valuable. I don't know to whom. Perhaps a competing institution."

After several minutes of arguing with the officer and repeatedly spelling out his name for their documentation of the incident, Chandra sat down at his desk with a weary sigh. He tipped his steaming cup of tea in the direction of Mohinder, the lizard perched on his bookcase and gave a sullen toast. "Thank goodness I thought to make a spare," he said pulling out an USB flash drive from a drawer in the bottom of his desk where he had kept all of his findings backed up in the event of failure.

**To be continued...**

* * *

><p><strong>Trivia: In the first episode of season 3, "The Second Coming", Mohinder Suresh can be seen struggling to open the door to his apartment where his father Chandra had lived before because of a bent door knob.<strong>

**In the second episode of season 1, "Don't Look Back", Eden McCain helps Mohinder find a flash drive with his father's research on it that had been hidden in the lizard Mohinder's terrarium.**


	14. Close Encounters

**Q&A: Will Arthur Petrelli and Gabriel meet face to face? Sorry, but no. That isn't a plot bunny that I have planned for this particular fic, but Arthur's mind reading of Angela could become an explanation as to how he knew about Sylar's empathetic capability in canon.**

* * *

><p><strong>14<strong>

**Close Encounters**

* * *

><p><em>March 12, 2006 - 3 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

_Dr. Chandra Suresh initially failed to detect an evolved ability in Gabriel Gray whom he thought to be his 'Patient Zero' upon which he could found his theories and expand his credibility among the scientific community. However, little more than a month later, after Dr. Suresh had abandoned his research on Mr. Gray, the study returned with what had been described as "undeniable evidence of telekinesis". It is our belief that Mr. Gray's telekinetic capabilities were adopted from one Brian Davis of Number 3, 14 Berman Street, New York, NY 10003. Though Davis's body has never been recovered, nor solid evidence found of his untimely demise, the individual in question has reportedly been missing since April 18,2006. His ability for "being able to manipulate objects with only the power of his mind" was firmly documented in Dr. Suresh's work prior to his disappearance - research to which Mr. Gray had obtained access._

_Gabriel John Gray, born June 2, 1977, inherited the ability of Intuitive Aptitude from his father Samson Gray. He was discovered as Dr. Suresh's 'Patient Zero' on March 15, 2006._

Claire glanced up from Gabriel's Primatech file, biting her bottom lip viciously. She only had three days left before Chandra would find him and the scientist was certainly proving to be a particularly stubborn thorn in her side. He had called Gabriel's apartment four times already, each attempt being more insistent than the last that he did indeed have the correct phone number and name. Thankfully Gabriel had been busy with a customer when Suresh had dialed for Gray and Sons. She could only count her blessings that he had come home with his arms full of grocery sacks and needing her assistance to check the mail the day before, allowing her to covertly intercept a written letter from none other than the good doctor.

Another stint of breaking and entering for research theft was too risky so Claire was left with two alternatives: obsessive stalking, her current venture, and putting to use the loaded revolver resting within the confines of her purse. She couldn't bring herself to dwell on the last thought for more than a few seconds at a time, but the more demanding Chandra became and the more frantic Claire grew with the deadline hanging around her neck like a noose, the more of a possibility it became. Perhaps a flesh wound would be warning enough but she doubted it. After the last week there was no doubt left in her mind about where Mohinder had inherited his tenacious persistence. She only knew that she was willing to do anything to keep Gabriel safe. And innocent.

"Where'd you go…" she muttered to herself, adjusting her binoculars from her stakeout position across the street and down the block. He had just been there a moment ago, pulled over in his cab and taking a break between fares. "Damn it!" Claire slammed her hands down on the dashboard of the car she had rented to follow the geneticist around. For an absent-minded professor he had an incredible talent for giving someone the slip. Or maybe just randomly wandering off. The jury was still out on which one it really was.

Muttering curses that would have made her mother blush to think that Claire knew such words under her breath the entire way, she sped across the city as quickly as rudely cutting through traffic lanes would allow. Roughly two blocks from Gabriel's shop she spotted Suresh purposefully strolling down the walkway in the direction of Gray and Sons. "Crap!"

Claire slid to a screech in a no-parking zone, not even caring if she got a ticket or towed. Thinking as quickly as she was capable, she snatched a black hooded sweatshirt of Gabriel's that had been left in the backseat and pulled the oversized garment on. Tugging the hood over her head, her face was completely swallowed along with the rest of her body, which was going to come in handy for concealing the gun that she tucked into the back of her waistband.

Secure in her obscurity, Claire jumped out of the car and stalked after Chandra, picking up her pace as she closed the distance between herself and the doctor. People gave her sideways looks and murmured worriedly, giving her a wide berth as she jaunted down the walk but she only had eyes for her target.

Breaking into a dead sprint, Claire ran right up to the doctor, hurling her body with the full force of her momentum into the man like a kamikaze to knock him back against the outer wall of the building next door to Gray and Sons. "Give me the bag!" she demanded from the shadows of her hood, ripping the revolver from her pants to point it in the terrified Indian's face. Suresh stuttered and fumbled for his satchel in his fear, and for a brief moment a venomous pang of guilt stabbed through her gut. But her tunnel vision faded to include a flickered wayward glance towards Gabriel's watch shop and that guilt was only for a moment. Chandra forked over his bag without argument and in her most acidic tone imaginable she instructed him to calmly walk back where he came from without looking behind him and only then would he not be harmed.

As Gabriel wandered out from the back of his workshop a most curious oddity greeted him. He quirked his head to the side, squinting to understand what, why, or whom the bundle of black fluff was that came streaking by the window of the store.

Claire didn't stop running from the scene of her crime until she had gained almost four city blocks of distance. Panting for breath, she leaned against a building to calm her racing heart. Unfortunately rapid cellular regeneration didn't prevent her from being slightly out of shape due to excessive amounts of Gabriel induced relaxation and good eating.

Just in the nick of time, she happened to look upward from her fatigued stupor to see her Uncle Peter adjusting the earbuds of his Mp3 player as he rounded the next corner over on his way to pick up Arthur's golden pocket watch. A fresh surge of adrenaline fueled her escape into the alleyway where she leapt into the nearest open dumpster for cover. After her blissfully oblivious uncle had passed, Claire sat up to brush the sticky remains of garbage from her sweater. "It's official. The universe hates me."

* * *

><p>"Gabriel?" she called out as she entered the apartment, jiggling her new key loose from the lock and shutting the door behind her. "Hello?" Claire stripped off her coat and hung it next to his and deposited her purse on the kitchen counter. She spent a minute thumbing through the mail and grabbing herself a drink before heading into the living room determined to drop onto the couch and refuse to move thereafter. Approximately two feet from reaching said sofa, she stopped dead in her tracks and held fast onto her breath.<p>

Gabriel had just stepped out of the bathroom from a shower, unaware of her presence, modesty concealed by nothing but a white cotton towel wrapped tightly around his narrow waist. Gentle droplets of water continued to cascade down the slope of his neck from damp, spiky hair, onto the glorious planes of his chest and taut stomach. _Maybe the universe still loves after me all…_

Claire was completely immersed in the view of flexing muscle and dark swaths of masculine hair when he spotted her. "Claire! Oh jeez!" He dropped the extra towel that he had been palming through his hair, startled by the unexpected arrival, and skidded back into the bathroom slamming the door behind him. Several minutes later when he retreated from the bathroom fully clothed in a t-shirt and sweats she was still standing in place, dazed by what she had seen, and he was still flushed with embarrassment.

"You're home early," he started with an almost defensive tone of voice.

"Uh huh," was all she could manage when still being stuck in throes of a hormonal moment.

"Sorry about that. If I knew you were here… I wouldn't have…" He stopped speaking and furrowed his brows. "Why are you looking at me that way?"

Shaking her head free of the fantasy where she had imagined bounding across the living room and leaping into his arms to kiss him senseless among other things, she shrugged her shoulders and mumbled a, "Surprise?" before forcing herself to walk away.

_Nope. The universe still hates me. Universe 2. Claire Bennet 0._

A few hours later saw the awkward couple sprawled out on the living room rug, tossing bites of popcorn at one another with a forgotten volume of Fyodor Dostoevsky's _Crime and Punishment _left by the wayside. Amidst bursts of blushing laughter their game of Truth or Dare had devolved more into Truth than anything else as they were both feeling a little too lazy to actually move out of the comfort zone they had created.

"Okay, okay," Claire giggled, tossing another puff of popcorn into the air where Gabriel caught it with his mouth. "Most embarrassing moment?"

"Too many to choose from."

"Pick one!"

"Okay. I'm pretty sure being caught in nothing but a towel counts." She laughed, missing the bite of popcorn that he flicked at her so that it bounced off the end of her nose.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

Rolling over, he groaned, "I don't like this game anymore."

"Come on." She perched on his shoulder to regain his attention. "It can't be _that_ bad."

"Just drop it," he ordered irritably. She instantly shrank back at the sudden change his temperament. Sensing her ill ease in the slow quiet of her movements behind him, Gabriel sighed heavily. "I hurt someone once. Badly."

"What happened?"

He sat up to face her but refused to meet her eyes. He stared into the palms of his hands for a long pause mulling over the admission he was about to make. "You remember how I told you that I used to get picked on a lot when I was younger?"

"Yes."

"When I was in high school there was a guy named Dennis Cooper. He made it a personal mission to make my life a living hell. As if being shoved into my locker and publicly mocked on a daily basis weren't bad enough…" His eyes took on a cold distance with the memory. "One day, Dennis and a group of his friends decided that they were going to duct tape me to the flag pole. I tried to run away but I wasn't fast enough. Dennis grabbed me and started dragging me… I knew there wasn't any way that I could fight them all but I thought that maybe if I could just hit _him_ hard enough to make him leave me alone…

"I swung my Physics textbook at his face as hard as I could. I don't know what happened to me, Claire. When I saw him fall down it was like something inside of me broke. All I could think about were all the times that he had tormented me. All the years of humiliation. So I hit him again. And again. And again.

"I didn't mean to hurt him that much. I just wanted to be left alone."

"Gabriel," Claire reached out to comfort him but he flinched away from the motion. "I know how that feels," she whispered.

"How could you?"

"There was a boy once, named Brody. I really liked him and I thought that he liked me back. It turned out that he really only liked _one_ thing. He tried to force himself on me." His pupils dilated with hostile intentions in response to her confession, the color around them seeming to drain away until his eyes appeared to take on a nearly pitch-black hue. Though Gabriel kept perfectly still and silent, Claire didn't need his special ability to know exactly what was on his mind.

"He didn't succeed. But he did end up hurting me. Long story short, I ended up driving his car into a brick wall at seventy miles an hour." He quirked a questioning brow at her. "With him in it.

"He survived. The last time I checked they were having to teach him how to tie his shoes again though."

"Claire," his hand shot out to grab hers, pulling her close. He didn't even need to say the words and he knew it. They were written all over his face. '_That was a stupid idea. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to be alive? How badly you could have been hurt? What were you thinking?' _"Never, _ever_, do _anything_ like that again."

"Don't worry. I think I kind of learned my lesson the first time."

After what seemed like an eternity of sitting in silence, Gabriel ran his hands over her shoulders and moved her hair off to one side of her neck to trace his fingers over part of her collar. "Claire?"

"Hmm?"

"If Brody was injured that severely… How did you come out of the wreck unharmed?"

She shrugged slightly, not quite sure what pathetic excuse to make since the truth was clearly not an option. "I was wearing my seatbelt. He wasn't." Feeling the need for a change of subject before he could find a reason not to blindly accept her answer, Claire thought of another question for him that would help to lift the mood. "What's the wildest thing you've ever done for a crush?"

"Besides ask her to move in with me?" he laughed.

"Someone that isn't me," she clarified with an exaggerated sigh and roll of her eyes.

"Who said it was you?" he teased back.

"Oh, you!" Claire snatched a pillow from the couch to playfully whack him with.

"What's the wildest thing _you've_ ever done for a crush?"

_I mugged a scientist once. _"I hid a guy in my closet for three days." That earned her an honest chuckle.

"Well, I've never done anything _that_ exciting before. Wildest thing I've done for a crush… Um… I don't really know. I wrote a poem once for a girl I liked back in college."

"You write poetry?"

"Don't sound so shocked. I had a phase." Gabriel climbed to his knees and threw out his arm like some dramatic Shakespearian actor. "Of an angel they sing, the cherubs in heaven. But their song shall hold no candle's flicker to her flame. And when the sun shines it is with envy of her golden halo. I find myself wanting to call her name, for she is grace and the breath I take of spring's sweet air. In her glory I wait."

More than a little surprised, Claire stuttered, "And how far did your poem get you with this girl?"

"Let's just say that I found it a little ironic when she said she was from Nantucket," he explained with a devious smile, wagging his eyebrows. He caught another pillow in the face for that one. "Okay, not really," Gabriel laughed. "Actually she didn't even know that it was me who wrote it for her."

"Will you ever write a poem for me?" She meant it as a joke expecting him to blush and shrug it off, but instead he laid back down beside her and ran his fingers down her arm until he could take her hand.

"That _was_ for you." He lifted her hand to kiss the back of it. "Because my angel's name is Claire."

_Universe 2. Claire Bennet 1._

**To be continued...**


	15. Can't Stop

**15**

**Can't Stop**

* * *

><p><strong>Inspired by <strong>"**Can't Stop" by Mozella**

"_I'm losing sleep over you. And I don't know what I've got myself into. _

_You just have something that I need._

_I can't put my finger on it. You can't put yours on me._

_You have everything I could ever want. You have everything I could ever want._

_You speak to my soul like you've known it before. And I just can't stop. _

_Lord, I can't stop myself. I can't stop. _

_Lord, I can't stop myself now…"_

* * *

><p><em>March 14, 2006 - 1 day until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

Claire woke in the dark of night to the sound of heavy wrapping on the door. She groggily rubbed the sleep from her eyes, turning over to see the alarm clock displaying a time of 3:30 A.M. in glaring red digital numbers. With a frustrated groan she rolled out of bed and shuffled into the living room where the sofa was conspicuously vacant.

"Gabriel?" She wandered into the brightly lit kitchen and had to squint through her bleary vision until her eyes adjusted to the light. He sat hunched over in a chair at the table working on some kind of project that was blocked from her view by his body. "Gabriel, why didn't you answer the door?"

"I couldn't leave her until it was fixed."

"What? Leave who?" Claire yanked the door open after another set of rapid knocks sounded, entirely ready to give the jerk on the other side a rude verbal lashing. "What the he-" A sharp stab of panic set her blood to freeze in her veins when she saw none other than Dr. Chandra Suresh patiently awaiting her on the other side of the door. She instantly slammed the door in the doctor's face. "Gabriel we have to get out of here!"

She rushed over to him meaning to pull Gabriel away from his task so that they could run, but the horror that Claire faced witnessing exactly what it was that he was feverishly working away at was more terrifying than anything beyond the apartment door. A doppelganger of herself was laid out on the table with the top half of her skull missing. "I have to fix it. I didn't mean to break her. I didn't want to." Claire helplessly watched her own body twitch while his fingers curiously rummaged around in the exposed brain matter. "It's not too late. I can fix this."

The incessant knocking sound vanished leaving a hostile silence in its wake to punctuate her worst fear coming into existence. Claire was losing control of the situation. Shrinking back from him as he rose from his seat, Claire clenched her eyes shut tight enough to cause dots to float behind her eyelids. Warm, sticky hands palmed the sides of her face. "Wake up, Claire. Claire, wake up."

"Please, wake up."

Claire bolted upright from the depths of her nightmare. Blinking her eyes a few times, she found Gabriel in the darkness. He had heard her fussing in her sleep and crept into the room to perch on the edge of the bed, stroking her cheeks in an attempt to rouse her. "You were having a bad dream again." The words, _for the third night in a row, _went unspoken but she could still hear them in his tone. Concern with a hint of agitation.

She released the breath that she hadn't realized she was holding and pressed her face into the open palm of his hand, holding it there for a long moment. Gabriel sighed heavily at her side, whispering, "Is something bothering you?" _Fear of failing. _"You know I'm here if you need to talk, right?"

"I know." When she had calmed down enough to begin slipping back into sleep he started to pull away. "Don't go." Claire felt him hesitate briefly but he didn't argue. The bed creaked slightly as his weight settled on the edge, reclining back against the headboard. Comforting hands combed knowing fingers through her hair until she clasped one in her own to tug him closer. With only minimal resistance Gabriel relented and pulled the covers over so that he could climb in beside her, resting a protective arm around her middle. "Promise me you'll never change," she requested from the fringes of slumber.

"Never. I'll always…"

* * *

><p><em>6:59<em>. _Why is it still 6:59? _Claire laid there wide awake with every second dragging on for an hour. Ticks and tocks from another clock in the living room measured the stillness between Gabriel's unconscious puffs of breath and her own hammering heartbeats. She had less than twenty-four hours to figure out a way to keep Suresh from discovering the man that lay beside her and subsequently unlocking the monster that lurked within him. Her mind was wracked with tumbling worries and half-formed ideas while simultaneously managing to burn that specific moment into memory. The easy way her leg lifted over his hip, or how his arm wrapped securely over hers to hold her closer to him. The fingers that tangled in her hair, the familiar comfort of his pulse in her ears as she rested her head against his chest like home. How he sporadically sighed her name in his sleep and reflexively clutched her a little tighter whenever she moved. Claire found herself desperate to remember every perfect detail before her minute was over and the sound of a bleeping alarm shattered the peace.

_7:00._ She saw it coming from a mile away knowing that nothing so tranquil could really last forever. Gabriel automatically broke his hold on her to reach behind him and hit the button that turned the alarm off. "Morning," he mumbled sleepily without opening his eyes, the slightest smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "You're still here."

"Where else would I be?"

"You're usually gone to work by now." A pair of foggy eyes opened to bring her into focus and the arm returned to her waist, bringing the warmth back with it. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too." She rolled over him for a morning-breath-be-damned kiss which deepened considerably when his hands grasped her hips somewhat suggestively. "I don't think I'm going to work today." He was quickly coming out of his early morning stupor as her lips moved down the path of his neck, awakening his senses. "Or ever again. I'm tired of fighting it. I quit."

"Just like that?"

"Just." Kiss. "Like." Kiss. "That." Gabriel used his weight to roll them back over, pressing her body deep into the mattress with his own, and almost vindictively returning the simulative favor.

"As much as I appreciate where this is going…" he rasped, voice thick with heightened hormones. "Some of us _do_ have to work for a living." And with that he brought the palm that was tracing the contours of her stomach beneath one of his shirts that she was wearing to a standstill.

"Play hooky. Spend the day with me." _It could be our last._

He furrowed his brows in preparation to reluctantly deny her wishes but seemed to stop in mid-thought process as though a cartoon light bulb had come into existence just over his head. Immediately reversing his decision, Gabriel gained steady confidence with the hand exploring her skin, successfully popping the bottom few buttons of the shirt in the process. Claire expressly felt just how much he appreciated her prior efforts as he allowed himself to sink onto her. "Remind me to thank your uncle for his business," he grinned.

"Never mention my uncle or," he interrupted her reprisal with a sharp nip at her ear that earned him a rewarding hiss of breath, "any other relatives again." _Not when you're rounding second base. _"Wait." She moved to sit up, forcing him to flop over at her side. Ignoring his low groan of mild frustration she continued with her own light bulb.

"Arthur's pocket watch… How much did they pay you for that?"

"I could probably play hooky for the next three months and be fine," he said with a proud smile, motioning to further his progress.

"_Gabriel Gray will have a lot of traveling to do in the future_."

_That sneaky old bat. _Claire took his face in her hands and locked their eye contact. "Gabriel, let's run away."

"What?"

"Let's go. Just pack up our stuff and run for it."

"Claire…"

"We can go somewhere where no one knows us. Get a new place to live. New names. We could start over with a whole new life," she explained in a rush.

He wore a contemplative crease in his forehead for a long time as he studied her expression, gauging her sincerity and reading into her intentions. And she hopefully watched the wheels tumble in his mind with mechanical ideas as he turned over endless lists of possibilities. "Okay," he finally agreed with a modest but bright smile. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere. It doesn't matter. Just wherever the road takes us."

"Alright." She could feel him start to become excited about the prospect of leaving his life behind for a new adventure.

"Get you're stuff. Let's go!" She bounced out of the bed and threw open the closet to grab clothing, leaving him behind in a daze.

"Right now?"

* * *

><p>The sun shone brightly from high in the afternoon sky, beating down on them with warm promises of spring and a fresh start in life as they exited a small diner in rural Pennsylvania. They had hit the open road less than an hour after deciding to, packing only the essentials, and dashed out of the city. Gabriel had ended up being more enthusiastic about their spur of the moment escape plan than her, prodding Claire to leave decisions about shoes and curling irons for later. He hadn't even stopped to call his mother.<p>

"We can go that way to reach Ohio," he half-gestured in one direction off to his side. "Or take that highway to Virginia," he pointed somewhere over his shoulder. They both subconsciously shuddered at the sound of Virginia and said, "Ohio," simultaneously.

"Maybe we can make it to Texas and visit your family."

"That would kind of defeat the purpose of a new beginning," Claire mumbled as she leaned back on the side of the car and turned her face up to feel more of the sun in the chill breeze. _Not to mention becoming incredibly awkward with the sixteen-year-old version of myself running around._

"No Larry?"

She cracked a lazy eye open to see him peering over the edge of the map mischievously. "No _Lyle_," she teased back with a grin. "Come on. You're turn to drive."

He caught the keys where she had tossed them in the air but only stood there staring numbly at them. "Claire…"

"Come on," she waved, hopping into the passenger seat.

Gabriel slowly folded up the map and shuffled his way across the gravel parking lot to the driver's side of the vehicle and got in. "Claire, um, I…" He had to move the seat all the way back just to avoid being crammed into the steering wheel from where it had been set to fit her shorter stature. "I, um… Claire, I can't drive."

"What? Why?"

"I never learned how. We could never really afford a car after my dad took off, and living in New York… I just never needed to. I don't even have a license."

"Okay. Well…" She took the map from him and shoved it into the glove box. "These are your fuel and temperature gauges. And this is your speedometer and tack. Windshield wipers, lights, blinkers," she pointed out all of the basic components one at a time.

"Claire, I can read," he chuckled.

"Alright, Mr. Smarty-pants. Let's see you go then."

Gabriel frowned but moved all of the mirrors around for his convenience and turned the car on. "Okay, I understand what everything basically does. It's just the -" he mimed a movement with his hand and foot that she interpreted as shifting gears.

"This is a standard H. Here," she placed his hand over the gear shift and covered it with hers to guide him along, "is first gear, second gear, third… You always want to start in first gear."

"First gear. Got it."

"Your left foot controls the clutch. Your right foot controls the gas and the break. Don't mix those up."

"Right."

"The clutch disengages the gear so you press it, shift, give it a little gas, and then gently ease up on the clutch." And then the engine stalled out. "I said _gently_."

"That was gentle!" he whined

_This must be the first thing he's never been able to do automatically. _"This isn't something that you can just execute textbook style, Gabriel. You have to be able to _feel_ it. Use finesse."

"Finesse isn't really one of my strong suits."

_Knew that. _"Try again."

"Claire…" _Patience. Must have patience. _He was pouting like a petulant child about to throw a temper tantrum.

"Gabriel, look at me." She took his face in her hands and used her most commanding tone of voice. "You can figure anything out. _Anything_. You just have to think about it and practice a little. Now look at it."

"Claire."

"_Look at it_." He did as instructed, taking in the physical construction of the car around him. She could almost feel the little _click_ of understanding as pieces of information slid into place like parts of a puzzle coming together to form a picture in his mind. "Now try again." Gabriel gave her a nervous look. "_Trust_ me."

"I do." He scowled at the car like it was the vehicle's fault he couldn't be instantly perfect at operating it, but carefully followed her step by step instructions. After a few tries and garbled curses he finally succeeded in getting the car rolling out of the parking lot. "I did it!" he proudly exclaimed with a shining smile. "I'm driving!"

"Yes you are. At fifteen miles an hour. Shift, Gabriel, shift."

"Oh, right."

Feeling giddily devious with their new found freedom, she gave him a few miles to figure everything out before testing his limits. Gabriel had been so completely engrossed in the task at hand that he had failed to notice her leaning into him, or even when she had tried to subtly blow in his ear. It took her hand creeping over his thigh to break his concentration. "Claire, what are you _doing_?"

She gave him a little squeeze that caused him to flinch and swerve just a bit. Her hand tiptoed up to his stomach and traced along the boundary line of his jeans for a tease. "What's wrong? Am I pushing the genius learning curve?" His mouth gaped open for a second and he looked as though he were having to mentally force himself not to close his eyes. But after taking a moment to grit his teeth and steel himself against her actions, he relaxed, giving her a grin full of dark intentions.

"Not at all." Gabriel turned the tables on her, taking her by the back of the neck and pulling her forward until she was nearly in his lap. "I'm a quick study." Between crushing lips and a flick of tongue she heard him power shift into high gear, revving the engine, and sending them hurdling down the blacktop at incredibly illegal speeds.

Once he had gotten started his natural ability took over, snowballing outward until it felt like he had always been driving. Claire even felt comfortable enough with him behind to wheel to fall into a light nap. By late afternoon however, the boredom that always seems to encroach on long road trips began to overshadow them resulting in mindless games of _I Spy _and arguments about which radio station to listen to.

"Worst job you've ever had?"

"That one is easy. Cleaning and maintaining the mouse cages in the Animal Science department for work-study credit. Yours?"

"Probably cheerleading bake sales. Those were always awful."

"You were a cheerleader?" He squinted at her with disbelief in his voice.

"Yeah, for like six months. Apparently it's what I'm best known for though because everyone likes to refer to me as '_the cheerleader_'." She snorted in mockery of her own notoriety.

"I can't imagine you with pom-poms in one of those little skirts…"

_Oh, yes you can. I saw that smirk. _"Really? Why not?"

"I don't know. You're intelligent and funny. You're a lot stronger than I would ever give a cheerleader credit for being."

"Keep going," she shamelessly encouraged his flattery with a flirtatious smile.

"I guess I've only ever seen them as being vapid airheads that are incapable of compassion for anyone that isn't as hopelessly shallow as they are. You're too _human_ to really belong with that crowd." _Interesting choice of words all thoughts considered… _"And you actually _see_ people instead of just looking through them."

"Are those grapes tasting a little bitter over there?"

"Maybe a little. As you already know, I wasn't exactly a part of the '_in_' crowd back in school."

"Oh, I've got a _great_ question for you."

He rolled his eyes at her and leaned on his elbow against the window ledge. "Ask away."

"When did you lose your virginity?"

"You _really_ make me _hate_ this game," he sighed irritably.

"Gabriel… Are you still -?"

"_No_!" he glowered at her. Per usual with extremely personal matters, he had to take a moment to pretend that he would refuse to answer before falling off his high horse under the weight of her unrelenting stare. Nostrils flaring slightly, he gave in to her curiosity. "Twenty-two." She opened her mouth to speak again but before the words could come out he elaborated further. "I used to make a little cash on the side tutoring people after I had to quit college. A girl that I had a thing for back then asked me to help her out with her Biology so we met up at this bar. Naturally she chose one on the other side of town so no one she knew would see us together, but we had a couple of drinks and…"

"One thing lead to another?"

"She got what she wanted, and then she left. That's the end of the story."

_Wow. Cold much? _

"I believe it's your turn to answer one of _my_ questions."

"Anything. I'm an open book."

"Name your deepest, darkest secret that you would absolutely _never_ tell anyone." Gabriel gave her a sideways smirk like he had trapped her in a corner with no way out.

"Easy. I'm a secret agent sent back from the future to assassinate you before you become a super powered serial killer."

"_Be serious_, Claire."

_If you only knew. _"I used to have a crush on my Uncle Peter." His eyes opened wide to stare at her incredulously. "But it was _before_ I knew he was my uncle. I met him before my biological parents."

"Is that why you're not speaking now?"

"No. That's an _entirely_ different story."

"Did he… _like_ you back?"

"I don't know. Maybe. We don't really talk about it. _Ever_. We just had a connection. He _got_ me when nobody else did. But nothing ever happened between us if that's what you're getting at." He gave her an _I certainly hope so_ look and went back to being quietly thoughtful.

Several hours later Claire was feigning sleep, keeping her eyes only slightly cracked open to sneak peeks at Gabriel in the driver's seat. The sun had set long ago leaving them alone in the darkness of the car with nothing more than the dull glow of the gauges and radio fixtures for light. She had to struggle not to break her act by smiling when her companion began to sing along in a barely audible tone to Salt N' Pepa's "Whatta Man" with the volume turned down low on the radio.

_The man doesn't have a clue who Prince is but he knows all the words to this?_ "This song was _impossible_ to avoid when I was in high school. And yes, I know you're awake Claire." He shot her a wry grin when she gave up pretending and pushed her seat forward from the reclined position. "You talk in your sleep. And drool a little bit."

"I do not!"

"I've watched you enough to know," he laughed, dodging the playful slap she had aimed for his arm.

They pulled into an out of the way motel in Indiana by midnight. After being on the road all day Claire was more than happy to wait by the car while Gabriel booked a room, utilizing her time to stretch and revel in the return of blood flow to her numb bum. The couple grabbed their bags and headed around the corner of the motel and up a short flight of stairs where their room was located. Outside of the appropriate door, Gabriel paused, dropped his bag and nervously fetched two sets of keys.

"I, um… I wasn't really sure. I - I know this is a little different…"

She flashed him a sweet, tired smile, taking one of the sets of keys from his hand. "You're kind of wonderful." Balancing on the tips of her toes Claire gave him a good-night kiss and headed to unlock the next room over.

"I'm just right next door if you need anything," he assured her.

The room was small with a single queen sized bed that looked like it would be heaven to sprawl out in after sleeping on Gabriel's cramped twin size. She flung her duffel bag onto the mattress and stepped into the bathroom. Even though the dim light was clearly close to the end of its lifespan and flickered, being able to splash cool water on her face was blissfully refreshing. With a mouth full of mint flavor from her toothpaste and brushed hair, she went in search of the remote for the little TV intending to catch up on a show she had missed in the absence of cable at home. Of course the control was mysteriously missing as they always seem to be, so instead she dedicated herself to digging through her bag for something to wear to bed.

_I don't remember packing this, _she thought to herself as she found one of her more scandalous pairs of white lace underwear. Feeling the soft fabric between her fingers, her mind wandered of its own accord as she stared at the bed which now felt too large for her with its emptiness. She had grown accustomed to tangling herself in Gabriel and the warmth that his body provided in the chill of the night. Even when he had insisted that she take his bed for herself out of some archaic sense of propriety, she would wake in the middle of the night and climb back onto the sofa with him. And usually found him patiently waiting for the event to occur.

He was always so concerned with not wanting to push her into anything that she may not want or regret that his slow pace had run its course. She had forgotten about _his_ wants and needs. And he had stopped paying attention to hers, even ignoring them for the sake of modesty. Whenever the two coincided they were left on a plateau where neither knew what to do so they didn't do anything at all. The couple weren't moving backward, but they weren't moving forward either until one of them made up their mind.

Claire had to smile to herself. Quite possibly for the first time in her life she knew exactly what she wanted.

The light in his room was turned off and she was afraid that he had already fallen asleep when it took him so long to answer her knock. But sure enough, after the second time she had wrapped her knuckles on the hard wood the light switched back on.

"Claire?" he asked somewhat fuzzily, swinging the door open. _Damn. Maybe he _was_ asleep. _"What's wrong? Did you have another nightmare?"

She couldn't find anything to say at first as she watched him rub his eyes. And then she didn't need to say anything at all. Gabriel quirked his head to the side, reading his open book with practiced ease. There was that familiar little _click_ of understanding when he connected one idea with another. His mouth opened in an _oh_ just before his eyes darkened a bit, and his arms were ready to catch her when she leapt into them. They shared a smile only for one another and he shut the door behind them.

**To be continued...**


	16. Firsts

**Please note the change in rating from 'T' to 'M' in reflection of this chapter. This chapter contains explicit content not suitable for young readers. However, for ease of reading this chapter has been separated from the rest of the story and contains ****absolutely nothing**** important to the plotline. If you wish to skip directly over this portion please feel free to hit the 'next chapter' button because ****you won't be missing anything****.**

* * *

><p><strong>16<strong>

**Firsts**

* * *

><p><em>March 15, 2006 - 0 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

Gabriel stumbled backward into the table with the weight of Claire in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist and hands threaded through his hair as she enthusiastically coerced strangled groans of excitement from his lips. "Are you sure about this?" he asked breathlessly, attempting to focus through the daze she had left him in. "Because I don't want to do anything that you don't -"

A finger found its way to his blissfully surprised mouth to beg silence of his modest denial. She leaned forward, touching her forehead to his, whispering, "I've never been so sure about anything in my life." He allowed her to slip from his grasp, smoothing her hair away from her face and gazing into her eyes. She knew that he wanted to see through the next step of progression in their relationship as much as she did, but watching him turn over worried thoughts as he studied her intentions caused her to realize that he was somehow just as terrified of the prospect or possibly more. "And I won't leave you afterwards." That earned her a shy smile. He brought a calloused hand up to cup her chin, allowing his thumb to move over the silk of her bottom lip before depositing a kiss there.

Gabriel stood quietly looking toward the bed with his arms around Claire's waist, resting his chin on her shoulder for several long minutes. She was reluctant to move from her position, mentally citing an incredible amount of comfort in the simple stance. The arms holding her were protective and safe, laden with a surprising amount of tensile strength. His body heat enveloped her like a warm blanket and his calm, steady breathing was an odd assurance that he would not leave her side so long as she wanted him there.

It was still a strange thought in a way - _wanting_ him there. Wanting him to talk to, to share her secrets with, to laugh with, and to hold her like that. Wanting him at all, let alone in such intimate ways.

But this was not the same man that she had sought out to destroy. He was not the suave, cunning, and cruel feature of her fears. He wasn't full of malicious intent to cause her or her loved ones harm. No, this man that gently sighed in her ear could never hurt her or anyone else. He was Gabriel Gray, the sweet, intelligent, and all too often overlooked watchmaker from Queens. He came with a colorful assortment of eccentricities, nervous habits, and crippling emotional scars, but she accepted them all. Wounded though he may have been, Gabriel made her heart swell.

Goosebumps prickled over her skin as he turned his head slightly and inhaled a deep, slow breath of the scent at her neck. Claire would have been lying to herself if she tried to deny that it gave her a little thrill. She could feel him inch his face just a little closer to her and lightly touched his lips to the space above her collar bone. She could see him on her peripheral view looking up from where he rested, searching for confirmation in her face whether what he had done was accepted or not, whether he should try again. She closed her eyes and stood her ground, letting the complete lack of resistance be her answer.

Sensing that his action was not unapproved of, he shifted enough to allow himself to continue dotting light kisses up her neck until he reached the space just behind her ear. His hands drifted from their sheltering position, smoothing her hair away from her shoulders, and coming to rest on her hips. He hesitated again, always looking for reassurance that he would not be in the wrong. She let herself relax into him until her back lay flush with his chest and stomach. His warm breath was so close to her ear that it tickled a bit and a slow smile crept over her mouth.

Gabriel tightened the grip of one hand on her hip slightly and moved the other, tracing his fingers up her side and over her arm until he reached her shoulder and held it towards him while he pulled her shirt far enough down to cover the area with more kisses. His lips trailed their way back up to the space above her collar bone where he nuzzled her neck tenderly and planted another lingering kiss at the base of her jaw. He held a soft hand up to turn her face towards him, allowing a small playful flick of his tongue at her ear before running more kisses over the line of her mandible. Claire shivered even though she could feel her own body heating up as well as his.

She turned, loosening his grasp on her until she stood facing him. He had drawn back to his full height when she moved and then towered over her. Once upon a time it would have frightened her to see his intense calculating eyes blazing down on her with the light of hungry desire behind them, but at that moment the view just filled her stomach with fluttering butterflies and sent her heart into a frenzy.

Claire placed her hands on either side of his face and balanced on the tips of her toes to meet his mouth. She met another moment of hesitation before he allowed his body to relax into hers, giving ground to the more primal side of his nature. His hands found their way into her hair, massaging her scalp and the space behind her ears as his kisses became more aggressive. She parted her lips to lightly trace her tongue over the top of his and grinned wickedly at the sharp inhale of air that he took.

He was pushed a step farther when she moved her hands to the hem of his shirt and slipped them under the garment to explore. He shivered a little, smiling in between kisses. Claire ran her hands over the expanse of his back, across the flexing muscles of his stomach and up to his sculpted chest, trailing her fingers back down to his hips and tracing the top of his pants. His jaw tightened during her caress and his mouth collided with hers at a fevered pitch. He tilted her face up and dipped to lead more hungry kisses down her neck, swirling his tongue around the fleshy spot that met her shoulders and nibbling gently. Claire had to bite her bottom lip to hold back the little gasp that wanted to work its way out of her.

Gabriel momentarily became a living statue of silent shock when she started tugging at the buttons of his shirt. She dotted kisses along his collar bone as she slipped her hand inside the top part of his shirt that had been undone and swiped downward, undoing half and sending the remaining buttons bouncing to the floor. She reawakened him as she slipped the shirt from his shoulders, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor and dived in for another round of increasingly fervent kisses.

His hands also became curiously adventurous, sneaking just under her blouse to rub soothing downward circles over the silky soft skin covering her hip bones. Claire was rapidly losing control over her bodily urges and she pulled away from him long enough to lift her own shirt over her head. She jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Strong hands met her thighs, gripping them tight as he stumbled toward the bed and fell forward so that she was pinned in that same position beneath him. Claire gasped again as their bodies meshed and the evidence of her partner's arousal brushed against her.

"Please tell me you remembered to bring -"

"Top drawer. Just in case."

He absentmindedly kicked off his shoes, and tossed hers away as well before lifting her up to the head of the bed so that he could climb on top more comfortably. She lifted herself to free the clasp of her bra and fell back onto the fluffy pillows as his kisses returned to her neck, moving slowly downward with optimal tongue and teeth rotations. A hand gingerly massaged her breast before tugging the supportive undergarment away and flinging it across the room. His kisses paused at the space between her breasts and turned toward one while his hand continued attention on the other. Claire let another sharp gasp escape as his tongue twirled around her nipple a few times before gently pulling at it with his teeth. He repeated the procedure to the other breast while his fingers teased the one his mouth had just left.

The oral adventure continued down her stomach to the dips of her pelvis, which he nibbled at, pressing his thumbs in downward circular motions to a point just below the barrier of her jeans. He grasped the back of her thighs as he swirled his tongue around her belly button, trailed upward along the center of her stomach and back again before blowing lightly. The cool stream of air caused her to shudder and arch her back into him.

Claire made quick work of undoing the brass fastenings of her jeans and he assisted in pulling the clothing down to her ankles and then to the floor. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, taking in the sight of the white lace panties that she had changed into, before darkening again with ravenous intentions. "I hoped you would wear those." Gabriel lifted a leg and kissed along the inside of her thigh and down her calf, massaging the smooth skin as he went. He flipped her socks off and rubbed her feet, placing a kiss on each one and causing her to giggle.

A wide dopey grin spread over his features when she playfully wagged a finger at him to come back and he slid his body over hers to meet her mouth again. She ferociously attacked the button and zipper of his jeans causing him to laugh wholeheartedly at her persistence for the pants to be removed from the equation. Gabriel stood to discard the jeans and pulled the covers down on the bed, scooped Claire up in his arms, and deposited her under the sheets before sliding in beside her and pulling the blanket back over him. Her legs eagerly parted for him as his fingers crept down her underwear.

"Oh, Claire," he whispered into her kiss, elating in her excitement for him. The tip of a finger slipped inside of her and her hips seemed to shift of their own accord. He dipped just a bit further with a little flair that made her shudder against him. But then he stopped abruptly and pulled away, furrowing his eyebrows at her.

"What? What's wrong?" she asked, filling with concern that she had somehow done something wrong or unattractive.

"Claire, have you ever done this before?" There was an insulting amount of surprise in the accusatory tone of his voice.

"No." Embarrassment flushed her cheeks a rosy shade of red.

He shook his head in confusion and sat up away from her, motioning to remove himself from the bed. She was quick to snatch his wrist before he could make his getaway. He wouldn't look at her so she climbed to her knees and moved her arms around his neck.

"Claire, we can't do this. _I_ can't do this…" he mumbled, still refusing to return her gaze.

"Why? You don't… want me?" Her voice cracked a little under the strain of his rejection.

"That's the problem. I _do_ want you. I want you more than anything I've _ever_ wanted before."

"But?"

"Claire," he turned solemn eyes on her and clasped the hands draping over his chest, "your first… time should be with someone _special_." His head sunk slightly with the weight of his own words.

"You _are_ special, Gabriel. You're special to _me_." Hope flickered in the back of his dimmed eyes but he shook his head again and turned his face away from her.

"Gabriel, look at me," she demanded, capturing his jaw and forcing him to look her in the eyes again. "I want _you_, not someone else. I want _you_ to be the one… I need you. Please?" She pressed her bare chest against his back and nibbled at his ear, provoking another sharp intake of breath. "Please," she whispered into his ear with an impish smile as her hand found itself creeping down his stomach to the fly of his boxer shorts. "Please," she whispered to him one more time as she released him from the constriction of the underwear and gave him an experimental stroke. His head fell back and he groaned at her erotic touch.

The inner animal flared to life inside of him again and his worries were forgotten as he turned against her, kicking the boxers away before wrapping her in his arms and laying her back down on the pillows. A hand tightened around the section of her underwear protecting her from him and almost violently ripped them away. His hands and mouth glided over her body again until he rested at the very foot of the bed. Strong hands grasped her thighs and parted them, lifting them over his shoulders as he fervently kissed every inch of her legs moving upward. He continued to massage her skin as his kisses found their way to her most sensitive areas. Claire viciously bit into her bottom lip as her back arched. The waves of good feelings that he was invoking washed over her body, steadily increasing in pace and intensity until her nerves were worn raw with tightly coiled tension. And then he slipped away from her, closing her shaking knees together and grinning wickedly when she cried out for the loss of his manipulations.

Gabriel stretched himself out over her, brushing the palm of his hand against her cheek as he gazed deep into her eyes. "Are you _absolutely_ sure about this?" he asked leaning in to place his lips on hers.

"I'm sure."

Nervous butterflies returned to her stomach as he retrieved a condom from the top drawer and moved between her legs. He ran a finger down her side as he studied her body below him, drinking in every detail of her figure. "If it doesn't feel… _good _and you need me to stop, please tell me. I don't want you to let me hurt you."

She pulled him close to her, threading her fingers through his hair and tried to ignore the trembling in his shoulders. Gabriel could put on a brave face but she knew him well enough to know when he was losing his bravado. "You can't hurt me," she assured him between fervent kisses.

"Tell me again," he whispered to her, positioning himself at her entrance.

"I want you, Gabriel," she answered earnestly with breathless anticipation as she smoothed a rogue lock of hair away from his eyes. He pushed himself a small way inside of her and then paused to lean down next to her ear.

"I love you, Claire." Finding her hands to lace their fingers together, he gently thrust forward, penetrating her innocence.

Claire's eyes burst open and her lungs filled with more air than they should have been able to hold. He gave her a moment to acclimate to the sensation of having him rest inside of her, occupying himself with doting kisses to her cheek and neck. "Are you okay?" he inquired while making a tight-jawed grimace.

She nodded wordlessly. There wasn't any physical pain but her body was reluctant to accept the amount of stretching occurring, so it did what it did best and attempted to heal around the damage. Unfortunately, what was responsible for the damaging fullness was Gabriel whom she knew felt her ability at work too from his revolving series of strange facial expressions between pleasant surprise and tongue-biting concentration. He gave off a full-body shudder that rippled back through her before braving another movement.

Claire breathed deeply again, feeling a strange thrumming sensation as blood rushed to where their bodies joined, their heartbeats creating a slight pulsating effect together in the tight constriction. She shifted to align herself with him better, and he backed away before burying himself within her core again. Claire felt all of her senses popping with the stimulation, making her more alive than she could ever remember being before. A fire was burning its way through her and she wanted more.

Gabriel hiked a leg over his waist and dipped to hit an even deeper spot making her moan. His eyes twinkled with delight at having found the magic button and he strived to touch it again and again. She roamed her hands over the shifting muscles of his back and pulled him down closer to her. She kissed and nibbled at his neck and ear as he hoisted her other leg around him. Her moans and gasps came with every thrust, growing louder as his movements quickened and strengthened.

"Wait," he pled, stopping. She squirmed a little, searching for more of the delicious friction that she craved. "Wait," he asked again, gripping her hips so that she couldn't move anymore. A hand moved down her stomach to reach between them. Gabriel dropped his head to the crook of her neck, hitching his ragged pants for breath and desperately trying to think about anything but the way she moved around him as his fingers worked her sensitivities into the same frenzy that he was feeling. Content with his work in her broken moans, he proceeded to push her over the edge of oblivion.

One last hard thrust and her vision went snowy white. The force of her orgasm reverberated throughout her entire body, seizing every muscle uncontrollably, turning her toes backwards and sending her head swimming aimlessly as she momentarily forgot how to breathe. The shudder that wracked her with a silent scream also sent him reeling, choking on her name as he couldn't hold back any longer. Gabriel collapsed, exhausted onto her breast.

Claire raked her fingers through his sweaty hair, hugging him close to her, feeling absolutely sated. When their erratic hearts slowed and heavy breathing subsided, their lips met again for a few sloppy post-coital kisses. He withdrew from her, leaving her feeling empty but too spent to argue until her body finished snapping itself back in to place. They tangled around one another as they had become accustomed to being, her head drowsily finding its place on his chest and his arms twining securely about her middle, a large hand splaying long possessive fingers over her stomach.

"I love you, Gabriel," she mumbled from the fringes of consciousness.

"Thank you," he whispered back to her. Together they fell into a deep, dreamless, and wonderfully worry-free sleep.

**To be continued...**


	17. Rated T  M

**This is another 'M' rated chapter. However, since this chapter contains information related to the plot line all mature content has been separated out by XXXs.**

* * *

><p><em>March 15, 2006 - 0 days until 'Patient Zero' is discovered<em>

"Good morning," Gabriel announced with a peck on her cheek. "Or afternoon as the case may be."

A slow smile spread across Claire's lips. "Morning." She rolled over into him, keeping her eyes closed while he propped himself up on an elbow and stroked her hair.

"We should consider food at some point today."

"Mmm. Who needs food when we can stay here all day? Just doing this." He chuckled quietly, nothing able to remove the grin from his features.

"I wouldn't mind at least indulging in a shower." Lips trailed tender kisses down her neck accompanied by a roving hand guaranteed to awaken her senses. "Maybe you wouldn't mind joining me for one?"

Dreamlike imaginings of hot water pouring down her back while seeking her partner out in the misty atmosphere with slippery soap and a cool tile wall wafted through her mind. Recollections of the sensations he had gifted her with the night before ghosted along her spine to curl in the pit of her stomach. "I could be persuaded." Claire could feel him smiling into their kiss.

"I'm sure." A gasp slipped over her lips to be swallowed by his when a tactical hand began the aforementioned persuasions. And then it was gone. Before she could understand what had happened, Claire opened her eyes to see Gabriel pulling back from her form as though he had been burned.

"What? What's wrong?" She sat upright, pulling a blanket around herself for protection from a bewildered stare that was making her more than a little self-conscious. He sat there for a long moment, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly trying to find his voice in the confusion.

"Claire… um," he rubbed his eyes free of the last vestiges of sleep. "We, um… We did… last night… didn't we?"

"Yeah." The icy hand of dread crept her system as an unpleasant dawning of understanding came over her. Her ability for regeneration would continue to heal any form of damage that her body sustained infinitely. _All_ damage to _any_ part of her body. She was going to betray her own self.

_Figures._

"I… um… uh." Gabriel continued to stutter out his confusion for a long moment, shaking his head to clear the misunderstanding. "I know my experiences with women are _limited_ and I've never been with a virgin before but…" His eyebrows contorted so tightly that she thought they would collide and destroy themselves. "Once _that's_ broken isn't it supposed to stay that way?" There was a flicker behind his eyes that she wished she didn't recognize. His pupils dilated, bleeding the color from his chocolate irises until only a cold, shark-like blackness remained. Muscles were contracting on their own, priming the hunter to strike, and the arteries in his neck pulsated with increased blood flow from an accelerating heart rate.

Panic. _Don't panic. _Stabs of fear flooded her vascular system with adrenaline as she warred with herself internally. Fight or flight sprung up to match the activation of Gabriel's barely contained _hunger_. _Don't scream… No sudden movements, _she coached herself, slowly backing away from him and rapidly losing her control when he followed.

He was naturally tracking her eye movements between himself, the door, and any possible escape route to judge where she would flee to, completely unaware of his actions on a conscious level. It was only when her back hit the wall behind her and she knew that she was hopelessly trapped with nowhere to turn that memories of being carved open by the same monster before summoned the slightest of tears to fall over her lashes. Gabriel blinked twice at her, his facial features relaxing from their predatory stations and softening with concern.

"Claire…" Deep seated shame filled the air around him as the _hunger's _claws retracted. "Claire, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

_He didn't even know he was doing it. He doesn't have any control over it…_

Another tear slid down her cheek as an open sob burst forth. Gabriel was hesitant to touch her as she huddled tighter into herself and blankets against the wall. But he couldn't resist the compulsion to comfort her when her shoulders shook with silent cries. Biting his lip he curled up beside her and wound his arms around her, wounded when she flinched at the contact.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear when she refused to look at him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that." His voice was stricken with genuine remorse. "I - I probably just didn't get it all or something."

Claire wiped her eyes and turned to look at him. "It's okay," she croaked. With a tired sigh he palmed her cheek to give her an apologetic kiss.

"I love you, Claire." She couldn't bring herself to say it back at that moment, but she opened up her nest of blankets to allow him inside and snuggled tightly into his body, carefully not reacting when his arms held her closer. The couple remained in their own personal bubble apart from the world until a chorus of growling stomachs stirred a bout of giggles that brought them out of their stupor.

Claire wandered back to her room next door while Gabriel occupied the shower. She made quick work of bathing and running a brush through her hair, anticipating a late lunch and another stretch of highway for the day plan. A not exactly subtle knock sounded at her door while she was in the middle of digging through her bag for clothing. Wrapping her robe more closely around herself, she went to answer the door with a toothbrush still hanging from the corner of her mouth.

The sight that awaited her on the other side of the barrier sent her heart into a fresh round of involuntary spasms. If her body wouldn't have prevented it she was sure that the blood could have frozen solid in her veins. "Dad?"

Noah Bennet and his partner René stood patiently in the afternoon sunshine sharing equally disappointed scowls. Her father nodded to the Haitian to wait by the door before he stepped in. "Where is Gabriel Gray?" She motioned to the room next door and after a clean sweep of the space, conveniently absent of anything belonging to him or signs of his presence, he accepted her answer.

"How did you find us?"

"The Company got a little worried when the tracking sensor that you had stuck to Gray's coat starting running out of the city. A full alert went out thinking that something had gone wrong with the mission and he was rabbiting out of town before he could get caught." _Translation: they thought I failed and he killed me. _"It took four search crews to find that sensor out by the water treatment facility." She let a smirk tip the corner of her mouth as she turned her back to him and rinsed out the toothpaste.

"You flushed it down the toilet didn't you?"

_Maybe… _"That doesn't answer the question. How did you find us?"

"Angela called me back in when you were reported missing. You're a smart girl, Claire. Keeping your pattern random so that we couldn't guess where you were going. But I know how you think. You wouldn't risk going north and running into border patrol. And I knew better than to believe you would go anywhere near a place named Virginia after what you've been dealing with for the past month," he chuckled. "That left one direction and lots of photo-recognition software. We just had to wait for a hit. Although I must say I expected you to be gone by now. I didn't think you would be confident enough to stay in one place for so long."

"And now what?"

Noah lost his superior smile at her sour tone. "How far did you think the Company was going to let you get, Claire? Gabriel Gray is a potential murderer. And even if you've somehow managed to keep him from turning into that, Angela still believes that he could be valuable to us."

"As an agent or an experiment?"

"You know that she doesn't make too many people privy to her motives, Claire. We were just given orders to retrieve the both of you, intact, at any cost. Angela wants Gray contained."

"Just following orders." Her knuckles flexed white with her grip on the bathroom counter. "They're really not going to let us go are they?"

"No. They're not."

Claire shook her, disgusted with herself for getting Gabriel tangled up in her mess, especially when he wasn't aware of it. How could she have been so foolish as to believe any kind of work for the Company could have ever been a good idea? Having known him and developed affections for Gabriel she had to blink back a tear and swallow her sob, thinking that he would have been better off had she killed him on the spot as she wanted to in the beginning. _Better dead than to have the Company get their hooks in him._

"How long do we have?"

"They're giving you twenty-four hours to return him safely where he belongs. After that they'll be sending agents -"

"Spare me the details." Claire summoned back her steely hard edge that she had earned from years of fleeing government task forces, prying barbs of betrayal from her back, and fending off a half-crazed serial killer. Shoving aside her softness that Gabriel had pulled to the surface, she strengthened her resolve and faced her father as the agent that she was supposed to be. "I'll bring him back home."

"Good."

"But on two conditions."

"Claire…" Something in her armored gaze and no nonsense shift of attitude caused Noah to take a step back. Crossing his arms defiantly, he resigned, "I'm listening."

"I want to keep control of the mission and its objectives."

"You know they're not going to let that happen after you tried to run away with him -"

She stepped up to him, stretching her short stature as high as she could until giving the illusion that she could be staring the man in the eye. "I _will_ maintain control," she commanded with a poke at his chest. "And there will be _no_ Company agents allowed near him. I don't care if he spends his time poking around with watches or ripping skulls open - _he is hands off_! If a time comes where he becomes a problem, I'll be the one to deal with it. Until then, you can go back to Angela and the Company and tell them to back off because I swear to God that if I so much as think he's being tailed - I _will_ take him. We _will_ disappear. And you will _never_ see or hear from us again. And you _know_ that I'm telling the truth." Her voice was barely more than a harsh whisper by the time her point had been concluded but Noah heard every single word that she had spoken with crystal clarity.

"I can't make any promises, Claire," he scowled down at her, coming out of the shock of being strong-armed by his daughter.

"I'll bring Gabriel home. You just keep the Company off our backs."

Noah grunted in disapproval but turned for the door to leave. Pausing in his exit he sighed heavily. "Before we left, Suresh was trying to contact Brian Davis about his ability. If he's moved on from Gray… You might win just yet, Claire Bear." And then he left, leaving a draft of unbearable worry and fretful distance from hope in his wake.

She was waiting on the bed for him when he came out of the shower, blissfully ignorant of anything that had just occurred. All of his things had been gathered and neatly packed away, and the bedspread smoothed out for ease of housekeeping until the only evidence of their night together that existed was in memory. Gabriel stepped out of the bathroom covered only by a white towel that hung low on his hips, running another towel over damp hair that stuck out randomly. He shot her a beaming smile but it quickly faltered when he took in the situation and her serious expression.

"We have to go back, don't we?"

Claire nodded with downcast eyes. He came to sit on the end of the bed beside her, taking a hand in his. "Is it because of what happened earlier?"

"No," she smiled sadly. "It's not your fault. We just have…"

"Responsibilities?"

"I'm sorry, Gabriel. I _really_ wanted this to work out."

He tilted her chin up to look him in the eyes. "I don't care where we are. Not as long as you're there." Each word was punctuated with a kiss that could steal her breath away.

* * *

><p>The open road stretched out before them in a seemingly endless snake of black top. Claire drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, leaning despondently on her elbow against the window ledge. Gabriel listlessly flipped through the static of radio stations. "Claire, have you seen my black hoodie? I thought I left it in the backseat but I can't find it."<p>

_That's because I borrowed it to commit a felony in and then left it in a dumpster next to someone's leftover egg rolls. _"Nope. Sorry."

Sunlight beat through the windows, warming her skin and sweeping her away into daydreams about far off lands where things like the Company didn't exist. A place and time where they could be allowed to live out their lives in peace. Or at least his… Claire took her eyes from the road to glance over at Gabriel. He was slouched back in his seat from dire boredom with his feet propped up on the dash and his forehead pressed against the window, chewing on a thumb nail.

_He deserves a quiet life. He deserves someone that can _actually_ give him a quiet life and not one full of being hunted down or in danger all the time. Someone that doesn't have to lie to him to protect him. Or who's crazy whacked out family won't try to manipulate him into being something that he's not. _

_Someone that can get old with him._

Claire pulled off the side of the rode and brought the car to a stop behind a billboard advertising the next nearest gas station and motel. Gabriel quirked a questioning brow at her when she shut off the engine and allowed her forehead to drop on the steering wheel, less than an inch from confessing the whole truth of her life to him. "_Feelings are intense. Words are trivial_," broke through the static of the radio. "_Pleasures remain. So does the pain. Words are meaningless and forgettable_."

She gave her traveling companion a long lingering gaze of appraisal. He returned in kind a look that communicated questions for her sanity when she began to laugh quietly at something in the song.

"_All I ever wanted, all I ever needed, is here in my arms. Words are very unnecessary. They can only do harm_."

_Screw it. Screw it all._

**XXX**_  
><em>

Claire shifted in her seat to climb into Gabriel's, perching on his lap. Ignoring his questions she gave in to the moment's desire. She crushed her lips to his, lacing her fingers through his hair until he was too breathless to protest. "Pants," she commanded, dropping down to his neck.

She detached herself from him long enough to unbutton her blouse, giving his hands access to roam freely. But she needed more. Claire ripped open Gabriel's shirt in search of skin. She needed the contact, was desperate for the comfort in touch. He was entirely confused about what was happening, but most certainly aroused and unwilling to argue.

"Please, Gabriel," she begged. "Please." Claire popped the button and dropped his zipper, Gabriel taking over to pull his jeans down to his knees. His hands moved over her thighs and up her skirt, rounding over her bottom.

"Claire," he whispered her name, feeling her readiness for him. He hooked his thumbs around the sides of her panties to pull them down.

She threw her arms around his neck, pressing their bare chests together as she rubbed against him until he slipped inside of her. "I love you." Gabriel grabbed hold of her hips and pushed her all the way down onto him, giving off another full length shiver when her body attempted to repair itself around him. Claire seized his hands and pressed them together above his head, claiming his mouth while she chose her own rhythm. He bit into his bottom lip viciously watching her glide over him. Her pace was quiet, but unrelenting, edging to the brink much faster than she wanted.

Claire released his hands in favor of being able to touch him, coming to stop. "I don't want it to be over with yet." Gabriel stared up at her in awe, palming her back gingerly. "I don't want it to be over."

"Marry me."

He was in the middle of watching her fall to pieces, trembling all around him, but the look in his eyes was only of love. Only for her. He was seeing her at her worst and he still wanted her. Claire stroked his stubbled cheeks tenderly, not sure how to process the depths of emotion being reflected back at her. "I know that I don't have much. But I can work harder. I can be more. Marry me, Claire."

She pressed her lips to his, locking her arms around his neck to hug him closer. His arms wrapped around her like iron bands, dropping his head into the crook of her neck with a groan in response to her picking up movement again. She threaded her fingers in his hair, holding him, a single tear slipping down her cheek for the strip of dusty highway before them and all the uncertainty that lay at the end.

**XXX**

**To be continued...**


	18. Chapter 18

_March 19, 2006_

Claire woke to Gabriel doodling random designs across the skin of her arm. "I was wondering if you were going to wake up." She turned her bleary eyes up to see him propping himself on an elbow, already fully dressed and shaven.

"What time is it?"

"12:43."

She rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I've been so tired lately."

"Don't worry about it." Strong calloused fingers kneaded the knotted muscles of her shoulders before dropping down to her side and slipping beneath the covers to her stomach. Soft lips dipped to butterfly kiss the back of her neck and around to her collar bone. Something started churning deep within her belly under the onslaught of Gabriel's advances that wasn't entirely pleasurable. The hand on her stomach stilled when she tensed up.

"Claire," he sighed in her ear, "tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing." She rolled over into his arms where he was casting a look of serious disbelief in her direction. "I'm just… I'm just not in the mood right now."

"Okay," he amicably agreed, withdrawing from her side in mock surrender. "Why don't you go freshen up and I'll make something to eat."

"Sounds good." Claire gave him an earnest smile of encouragement for his efforts and slid out of bed. After yawning her way through a quick shower, she stepped out and wiped the condensation from the mirror. _Ugh. How can I sleep so much and still end up with little baggies under my eyes? _Brushing her teeth proved to be a more difficult chore than it should have been. What was usually a refreshing dose of mint flavor upon awakening somehow tasted sour. She stared at the tube of paste for the duration searching for some form of expiration date, but after the third episode of gagging, she gave up on the act and mentally deemed the hygienic product as being part of a bad production batch. Opting instead for a thorough cleansing by mouthwash, she discarded the toothpaste and grumbled her way through taming disobedient hair. _Great, _she mumbled internally while dressing, having discovered a light spotting of blood. _That came early. This is sure to be the best day ever. _

"Yes, I can probably fix it." Gabriel was in the process of pouring a glass of milk with the phone tucked between his jaw and shoulder when Claire wandered into the kitchen. "Yes, Mother," he spoke into the phone with a roll of his eyes when he saw her leaning against the doorway stifling a giggle. "Yes, I'll be over in a while to take care of it. Yes… Mom, I have to go. Mom… I - I have to go now. I love you too. Goodbye." He clicked off the line while the opportunity presented itself and handed Claire the glass of milk on his way to hang up the communications device. "Virginia's garbage disposal is broken so I have to go over a little early today and fix it. She probably dropped another fork in it or something."

He quirked a questioning brow at her when returning to see her nose scrunched up distastefully. "I think the milk went bad," she explained, taking a small sniff from the glass and sticking her tongue out at it.

"That's odd. We just bought it the day before yesterday." Gabriel took the glass from her and smelled the beverage for himself. Timidly he took a small sip and shrugged his shoulders at her. "Seems fine to me. The taste is probably off because you just brushed your teeth, but if you don't want it I'll drink it."

Gabriel watched her listlessly poke her food around the plate with a growing amount of concern from over the top of his newspaper. "Claire." He placed his paper to the side and reached for her hand, flinching slightly when she withdrew the appendage from his touch. "Are you going to tell me what the problem is, or are you just not in the mood for food either?"

"And _don't_ tell me _nothing_," he clarified when she started to open her mouth. Claire sank into the back of her chair dejectedly and gave the plate before her a sullen stare, unable to come up with an appropriate answer. "Are you depressed?"

"What? No."

"Because there's nothing to be ashamed about, Claire. We can get you some help if you need it."

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Claire, _something_ is wrong. You've been fatigued for the last few days. You're appetite is out of character. And you have been a little _moody_." She dropped her jaw incredulously, ready to rebuke his accusation when his shoulders sagged in defeat. "You've barely let me touch you since we came home." A sense of guilt struck when he rolled a pair of hurt puppy brown eyes up to look at her. "I know that you're feeling stressed with your job right now. And I know that something is bothering you. I just wish that you would talk to me about it."

"Gabriel…" Claire got up from her seat and moved to perch on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and locked their eyes. "I'm sorry. I've just been a little _off_ lately."

"Please just tell me that it isn't because of what we did…"

"No. No, no, Gabriel." She placed an honest kiss on his lips. "I don't regret _anything_ about being with you." _Just the whole not being able to explain my spontaneous regeneration of virginity thing. _

"You do look a little pale," he noted upon careful study of her features. Placing a gentle palm against her forehead caused a grim frown to pull down the corners of his mouth. "You're warmer than usual too. 99.5 degrees. Normally you run at a perfect 98.6. You must be coming down with some kind of bug. Maybe you should go back to bed for a while and get some more rest."

"I wish I could," she sighed. "Unfortunately I have to go in and see what kind of devious plans my boss has cooked up over the week."

He chuckled lightly. "There's something amusing about an executive of a paper company being thought of as devious."

"Oh, yeah. She's a real riot."

* * *

><p>Claire wandered down the halls of Primatech's New York base of operations. Most of the people that she passed on her way to Angela's office completely ignored her presence as though they knew that she had come from another time and were worried for their own futures by interacting with her. But others would cast disdainful side long glances when they thought that she wouldn't see. For an institution that revolved around the research, occupation and use of <em>specials<em> like her in their day to day operations it was more than a little baffling to see first hand the amount of distrust and blatant distaste that remained attached to people of her kind. It was almost akin to the racial tensions that plagued the pages of her history books in school. She was different from them. They might have not known exactly why, but they knew that she wasn't one of _them_. Not really. And because of that she was not to be trusted.

_So much for 'one of us, one of them'._

Outside of her grandmother's office, Claire was prepared to knock for entrance when a conversation taking place on the other side of the door caught her attention. "And Gabriel Gray has been returned successfully?"

"Yes. He's been back home since Friday." Noah and Angela were having a meeting about them.

"Good. I hope you've explained to Claire exactly how irresponsible it was to take an impromptu vacation with Mr. Gray. We should have been notified before hand so that the proper precautions could have been taken."

"Yes, she knows." Was her father covering for her?

"Now, about what you observed when you found them in that motel?"

"They had separate rooms. There was no sign that Gray had even been in her room."

"Interesting. Mr. Gray remains a gentleman if nothing else."

"I trust Claire, Angela. She's a good girl. Even if she has developed some sort of attachment to this guy… Claire would never do anything like that."

"I'm sure." She could almost hear the sarcastic smile in her grandmother's voice and it made her stomach turn uneasily. "And she's still staying at the Hyatt?"

"Her room is still paid out until the end of the month."

"That doesn't answer the question, Noah."

There was a rustling sound inside the room like someone shifting their position uncomfortably. "When Suresh became the primary threat to the operation, Claire did take up residence in Gray's apartment. She knew that she had to keep a closer eye on him in case he was contacted." Angela's insinuations were stirring indignant outrage that flushed her face. She could only imagine the bitter scowl that would have taken hold of her father. "They do… _share_ a couch."

"And bed as of late?"

"There have been no signs of _activity_ between them." Every one of Noah's words came out as a low snarl ripped from dangerously gritted teeth.

_Why the hell is Angela so interested in my sex life? Oh, wait. Because it involves a potential psycho killer responsible for murdering Nathan. But we're past the date where Suresh found his 'Patient Zero'… Gabriel still has no idea that he has a power. We should be clear, right?_

"Interesting. Very well then. Operations will continue as they have been. Oh, and Noah? _Your_ Claire is going to cut her hand on some glass in front of a friend. Be ready to cover that up. We wouldn't want Thompson to get wind of anything, now would we?"

Claire turned to get away from the door before she could be caught eavesdropping only to find herself chest deep in the Haitian. "René," she breathed, catching her pulse of surprise, "you scared the crap out of me. Don't sneak up on people like that."

He crossed his arms and gave her a meaningful look that told her he knew what she was up to and had been listening in on. The Haitian's glare of disappointment was almost as unsettling as her father's.

"Claire?" Noah announced in surprise, having stepped out of Angela's office. "What are you doing here? Where's Gray?"

"He's with his mother fixing her garbage disposal. What the hell was _that_ all about?"

"Angela had a dream that you two were… Has he tried to take advantage of you?"

"No!" _I don't even think _Sylar_ would sink _that _low. _And then the memory of the Stanton came rushing back at her. _Well, maybe. _"Gabriel has been nothing but nice to me and you know it! He's harmless." _For the most part._

"Are you feeling alright? You look different."

* * *

><p>"Oh, hello, Claire dear," Virginia greeted her at the door, her smile flickering with false enthusiasm. "Come in. My Gabriel is still working on the disposal. You can have a seat at the -"<p>

"Ow! Son-of-a -" Virginia cleared her throat noisily, casting a distasteful glare in the direction of the kitchen sink, "yellow bellied… mountain canary."

"Would you like something to drink while you wait on him to finish up?"

"No, thank you," she said taking a step into the apartment. "My stomach has been a little upset with me today."

"I hope you're not coming down with something," Virginia mumbled in a rush. The older woman quickly shut the door behind her and made a direct line for her hand sanitizer, liberally purging her hands before flitting out of the room.

Claire wandered over to the table where Gabriel's shirt and sweater vest were draped over a chair. His face and shoulders were obscured by the sink's cabinetry leaving only a toned torso clad in a fitted undershirt and slacks to trail from the bottom amidst spare parts and fixtures. "You know she's going to scrub this whole place down with bleach if she thinks you're sick," he mumbled from somewhere in the plumbing.

_Is it wrong that I enjoy freaking her out? _"Yeah. I guess I shouldn't have mentioned that." He let out a sharp hiss of breath before climbing out from under the sink, holding his hand with a grim scowl on his face. Claire inhaled deeply at the sight of him standing to wipe his greasy hands off on a rag, the muscles in his arms and shoulders contracting with movement and his late afternoon stubble stained with a streak of oil across his cheek. _Whoa, hormones. Not here. Not now._

"I cut my hand on something in there." Gabriel glanced over at her, his brow line raising for a moment before sinking with mischief, a slow smirk curling in the corner of his mouth with knowing. "There's something jammed down in the blades but my hands are too big to get it out. I've been trying to go through the bottom, but…" he shook his head with a sigh. "I'm going to have to replace the wiring. I'm just happy the motor didn't burn up."

He crawled back beneath the sink with a few sparse curses muttered under his breath. "Claire, can you see anything from up there?" She crossed over to the spotless basin and twisted around trying to spot whatever object was bogging the operation down.

"No…"

"If I cross these wires maybe I can give it just enough power to loosen it."

Claire ducked her head a little closer to peer down the top layer of piping. Spying a sliver of something shining in the dim light she cried out, "Hang on! I think I see it!"

"Be careful. Those blades are rusty." She snaked her slender hand down the drain and curled her fingers over the disposal's blades. Gabriel slipped a few more garbled curses out from below when she knocked something slimy down the path of piping.

"I can't quite reach it." Her fingers fumbled with the object, repeatedly touching and losing it. "Wait, I think maybe -" Claire had just managed to get the hindrance in her grasp when a sneeze echoed up the pipe with a subtle buzz of electricity. There was only a split second between the point when her mind registered what was about the happen and the gurgling rumble of the garbage disposal coming to life. She felt the not so gentle tug of her hand being caught in the blades just before they shut off again.

"Oh my God! Claire!" Even without the shock of pain surrealism filled the air of the situation. Gabriel had climbed out from under the sink and grabbed his shirt to wrap her hand in before she could protest. "Oh my God! Claire, I'm so sorry. I - I - it was an accident! Oh God, I'm so sorry!" Hot tears of remorse were spilling over his lashes onto the shirt-bandaged hand that he was clutching for life. Tiny spatters of blood marred his face from where her flesh had been torn open and spiraled down the pipe.

He had her scooped into his arms and dashing for the couch faster than any non-Speedster should have been able. Dark pools of blood had seeped through the shirt and swiped across his chest. And all she could do was think, _Oh shit._

Through his panic and chaotic apologies, Gabriel had her hand elevated so that the blood would run away from the wound and was grappling for the phone when his mother arrived on the scene. "We have to get you to the hospital."

"Gabriel, what happened? What's going on?"

"I - I touched the wires. I didn't mean to, Claire! It was an accident I swear! Oh God, I'm so, so sorry."

"Gabriel? Tell me what happened here?" Virginia demanded, looking at them both like they had just come from the set of a blood soaked horror movie.

Claire fended off his protests, batting Gabriel's hands away as she unraveled the shirt around her hand. The last stitch of stained cloth fell away and revealed to them all a flawlessly formed hand with fresh pink skin and light smears of reddish color. His eyebrows pulled together like two trains on a collision course and yanked her hand into his own for inspection. He turned the palm up and down, side to side and every which direction that he could think of, testing the function of her wrist and finger alignment.

"Gabriel?" Virginia prodded again, an inch from her own obsessive panic.

"Nothing," he muttered in disbelief. "Nothing is wrong, Mother. Everything is just fine," he assured her even though he wasn't sure that he bought his own words. She took his claims for face value though and wandered away aimlessly. "I could have sworn… I knew…" He was looking at the blood again, cross referencing the grotesque display with the lack of evidence on her skin.

His eyes flickered up to her own with dilated pupils and irises flooding with dark intent. Sylar was hungry.

_Oh, shit._

**To be continued...**_  
><em>


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks to everyone that has left reviews so far. The last chapter had 14 alone which is a new record for me. There was a question that I missed answering in the last chapter so - yes, Claire does know about Gabriel's ability to take powers without killing. We're starting to get into the events of _Six Months Ago _so the story is really going to be boiling soon. **

* * *

><p><em>March 19, 2006<em>

"Gabriel?" Virginia Gray wandered out of the bathroom with a damp towel and spray bottle of Clorox to clean up with. Silence was her only answer. "Gabriel?" she called out again into the vacant apartment. Tools and parts were left scattered on the floor of the kitchen by the sink alongside drying droplets and spatters of blood. Gabriel and Claire had disappeared so quickly that his usually meticulous compulsions for perfect order were forgotten. "What on Earth has that girl done to my son? I know I taught him better than this." Virginia proceeded to fetch a pair of canary yellow rubber gloves and knelt to scour away the abandoned mess, grumbling under her breath the whole way about_ trouble making harlots_.

Claire didn't dare to breathe a word as Gabriel pulled her out into the street, or even when he hailed the cab to take them home. The ride back to his apartment went by in silence punctuated by sideways eye flickers of deadly curiosity, the tension between the couple so thick in the air that not even their driver felt courage enough to break it. Once outside the door, Gabriel's neighbor, Steve, made a brief appearance while keys were being fumbled about in the lock. The other man started to open his mouth, probably making with the typical snarking commentary that normally accompanied his presence, but one gaze of lingering severity from Gabriel had him quickly closing his trap again and retreating into the safety of his own home.

He didn't loosen or release his vice-like grip on her arm until Claire's backside forcefully hit the couch. Gabriel's eyes naturally tracked the dissolution of color in her skin, the dark purple bruising from where his hand had clamped down on her gently fading to a light yellow and then disappearing altogether. If it was even possible by that point his pupils widened even more until all traces of brown had sunk into a deathly black hue. He seized the hand that had been the victim of his mother's garbage disposal and all cognitive thought focused on the lack of maimed flesh. His fingers traced over the contours of the hand, repeatedly running over the criss-crossed patterns of previous injury. He bent her hand in every direction at every possible angle to check for issues of alignment as he had done earlier, growing more and more frustrated with each passing minute of futility. "How? How did you do it?"

She swallowed thickly and summoned her most innocent voice through the hard chunk of nerves blocking her throat. "Do what?"

"You should be missing half of your hand. But you're not. How did you do it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine. Nothing -"

"Don't." Gabriel's voice dropped in warning and he held her pinned in place by the hypnotic power of his intent focus on her alone. Every muscle in his body was ripe with fresh blood flow and coiled strength, poised to strike in a flash like some poisonous serpent after its prey. "I heard it, Claire." He looked over the specks of blood covering his upper arms, a few flecks remaining on his face, and the smear across the chest of his white undershirt. "This is your blood," he viciously accused, yanking the stained shirt he had turned into make-shift bandaging from her grasp. She flinched having forgotten that she had kept the soaked cloth clutched tightly like a lifeline. "And I heard the bone snap, Claire. _How did you do it_?" he asked clearly enunciating each word with an acidic tone, leaning in until they were nearly nose to nose.

All of the warning bells and whistles took control of her body and Claire reacted the only that she knew how when facing the feral entity that lurked beneath Gabriel's surface. Instinct.

With her heart hammering in her chest she aimed a sharp foot in the vicinity of his groin and rolled to the side before Gabriel could collapse on top of her. Claire darted into the bedroom while he was muttering curses in the sofa cushions and slammed the door behind her, twisting the lock. She dashed to the night stand, ripped open the top drawer to retrieve her revolver from its hiding place and braced herself to shoot when he came in after her.

"Claire," he called out to her from the other side of the barrier. She could barely make out the sound of her would-be nightmare hitting the floor with a dull thud and more garbled curses. Straining her ears, she could hear him half crawling, half stumbling his way to the bedroom door until he had dragged himself to lean up against it. "Claire, open the door." A loud bang sounded like he had struck the wood with a fist in irritation. "Claire… Please…"

A warm droplet landed on her hand. She looked down to see the shining metal of her gun trembling in her hands, breaking open the dam for the flood waters to flow freely. Claire grit her teeth against her moment of weakness and tucked her weapon into the back of her jeans. Through the haze of tears she managed to pry the window open and climbed her way out onto the fire escape with Gabriel's pleas still ringing in her ears.

Stepping off the rickety steel ladder onto the street below, Claire wiped her tears away and began walking without any particular destination in mind. Distance from Sylar was all that mattered. She cast one backward glance over her shoulder to the apartment and life that she was leaving behind, and that one singular pause in time was all that it took for life to capture her surprise again. A pair of dark skinned hands reached out from nowhere to cover her mouth and pull her into the shadows of an alley way.

The hand strangling the sound of the scream in her throat flinched away just before her teeth could sink into it and the other whirled her around to reveal none other than the Haitian holding up a finger for quiet. "René? You scared the hell out of me!"

"Your father wanted me to keep watch over you while he is away."

"How did you know? Wait, I don't even want to know," she sighed, waving away the thought and running a hand through distressed hair. "Where is he now?"

"Texas. Protecting you from exposing your ability."

"Jackie…" The memory of squabbling with her old high school friend over her cheerleading uniform flitted through her mind. _God, that feels like someone else's life now. _And then the memory of having to watch helplessly as the girl's skull was torn open in the halls of Union Wells High gathered over her head like a storm cloud. She had just escaped that monster for another time as impotent to stop him as ever. "We should get out of here. It won't take very long for him to figure out that I'm not in there anymore."

"Should I call your father?"

Claire paused, thinking over the prospect of what she would have to tell Noah and the inevitable order for her mission's termination that would follow. "No. Not yet. He'll be back soon enough." The Haitian nodded with his own brand of sympathetic understanding. She would need however much time she could spare to gain the resolve she would need to kill the man that she had grown to love. "Let's go back to the hotel."

"Claire? Please open the door," Gabriel pleaded, stroking the wooden surface in remorse. "I'm sorry. I'll never ask about what happened again, I promise. I don't even care anymore. Please… just talk to me." He had spent over an hour babbling to the door already and after a few more minutes of cold silence he sighed before leaving to get a case of tools. He jumbled the lock around with a set of precision screw drivers until the tumblers gave way and the bedroom door swung open.

"Claire?" Gabriel's heart sank at the sight of emptiness, the curtains waving gently in the breeze from the open window. "I'm sorry."

* * *

><p><em>March 20, 2006<em>

Claire lay sprawled out on her hotel bed surrounded by shuffled Primatech files and old surveillance photos of Gabriel Gray. She had done everything in her modest power to submerse herself in the mission documents again, trying to gain back the mindset that she had started out with. The desire to destroy her nemesis. The _want_ to end his life. But after having known who he was before the _hunger_ came creeping out there was no way back to that place that she needed to be in anymore. When she watched his life play out in the pictures around her all she could see was Gabriel, the subdued, introverted watch maker that numbered the bottom of his socks so that they would always match. The adorkable guy that could quote every word of Paul Valery, but didn't have the slightest clue who half the people featured in her magazines were. The devoted son and sweet lover that occasionally laughed at inappropriate intervals during horror movies, and who was always interested in whatever she had to say, even when it didn't make sense to him. The tall and muscular man with thick, dark hair that she could run her fingers through forever and could make her… queasy. Claire's stomach turned over with excessive amounts of stress.

_Why? Why did I have to get my hand caught like that? It's not like me and a garbage disposal don't spell out potential disaster or anything… So stupid._

She had gotten over confident and dropped her guard. Too comfortable in the life that they had been living together. In spite of their recent Primatech related hijinx it had been the most normal that Claire had been allowed to feel in years and it had blinded her to the possibilities of being discovered.

A light knock sounded at her door and Claire jumped up to answer it. "René?" She cracked it open an inch and looked out for the identity of her visitor. Who else should have been standing there than the one person in all the world that she wished to avoid? Apparently she didn't even have to speak of him. Aimless thoughts were enough to bring the devil to call.

Claire slammed the door shut again and flipped the dead bolt to a locked position. "Claire… Please. I'm sorry," Gabriel begged from the other side. "Please just talk to me."

She hurriedly looked around the room and zipped about to collect all of the pictures and files, stuffing them under the bed in a moment of panic before returning to the door. Claire unlocked it and cracked it open just enough to see a sliver of Gabriel still standing there appearing pathetically downtrodden with nervously fidgeting hands. With a heavy sigh she opened the door all the way so that he could come in and crossed to the other end of the room without turning her back to him. "Claire, I -"

"Don't come any closer," she warned, signaling him to stop in his approach when he wanted to follow her movements. Gabriel's eyes anxiously flickered to the revolver that was resting on the table beside her bed, a single pace from her reach.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised, jamming his hands into his pockets and shuffling his feet uneasily. A solid minute passed in silence before he found the nerve to speak again. "I, um… I brought your car back. We left it outside of Virginia's yesterday." The ghost of past events passed between them in a pregnant pause.

"Claire, I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I, um… I know that there was no excuse for me to act like that. You have every right to be mad at me… And never talk to me again. I just wanted you to know…"

His eyes hovered about his shoes and she eventually allowed her arms to uncross and fall to her sides. It felt like there was an invisible wall separating them and only she could be the one to break it.

_Love is being stupid… together._

"About yesterday…" she started, trying to plot out the words that could either give them a second chance or finish it all for good.

"You don't have to tell me anything. I don't even want to know anymore," he declared passionately not wanting to disturb any chance at peace between them.

"Gabriel… I need to show you something." She pulled out a pocket knife and flicked open the blade. Carefully watching his eyes open wide in shock, Claire drew the length of the knife across her arm until a decent sized tear in the skin appeared and bright red blood flowed from the wound.

"Claire! _What are you doing_?" he started to approach her again but stopped dead in his tracks witnessing the blood come to a halt before his vary eyes. Intricate muscles wove themselves back together and the skin knitted itself back into place until a light pink stretch of flesh faded into the same golden tan as the rest of her arm.

He took a rigid step in her direction and Claire stopped him again. "_Don't_ come any closer." She watched him watching her, studying one another as she tested his control. As before the _hunger _reared its ugly head from behind his eyes, triggering the darkening of his chocolate pools and she could almost _feel_ the way his skin crawled to get to her. To understand. But he remained as still as a living statue, clearly struggling to obey her command, but succeeding with only minor falter. And then the _hunger_ too faded away.

"I'm not -" Gabriel shook his head to clear away the haze, his eyes slowly returning to color and his pulse subsiding. "I'm _not_ going to hurt you, Claire." Sensing that he was sure of his words, she allowed him to come to her side. His fingers traced over the area where the cut had been, carefully inspecting for any evidence of damage in disbelief. "That is…"

"Freaky?"

"Incredible."

"Do you want to try?" He looked up at her in question so she handed him the pocket knife and flipped her palm upright in a gesture of trust.

"No. No. I, um…"

"It's okay. Go ahead."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"I can't feel pain." Gabriel's eyebrows drew together in deep thought. He seemed to want to reject her offer again, but his curiosity was overwhelming. Timidly, he took the tip of the pocket knife and pressed it into her skin. He glanced up at her for any reaction of pain or wrongdoing on his part, but at her answering look of encouragement he drew his own line across the width of her hand, watching in concentrated fascination as the injury healed within seconds.

"So _this_ is your big secret?"

"What do you mean?"

"I knew you were keeping _something_ from me. I just kind of hoped that maybe you would trust me enough to tell me someday. But this… I never thought it would be anything like _this_… In retrospect I think I can understand why you wanted to keep it secret though." He took a seat on the end of her bed and rubbed at his eyes as though he could make some kind of grand illusion go away. "I guess that explains a few things," he spoke more to himself than to her while giving her a speculative once over.

"Yeah," Claire agreed quietly with a light blush coming into her cheeks.

"I always knew you were…"

"Different?"

"_Special_." He quirked a shy smile at her. "I, um…" a mild chuckle escaped him. "I had no idea just _how_ special you really are though." She took a seat beside him and dropped her hands into her lap wondering where they were supposed to go from there.

"Are there others? Like you?"

"Yes… Well, not like _me_, but there are other people out there that can do stuff. As far as I know there's only been one other person that could heal like me." He nodded in quiet contemplation, absorbing the startling information much better than any other person that had ever found out about her before.

"So… can you heal from _anything_?"

"Pretty much. I guess I'll just keep regenerating forever. I'll never be able to get old or… Someone," _meaning you, "_told me once that I wasn't like the others. That I was different. That I can never die." Claire caught herself hoping that he didn't notice the deep tone of sadness that her voice had taken without permission. "_Permanently_ anyways," she added with an awkward smile in hopes of bringing some levity to the conversation. "I've done the short term a few times."

"Wow. I guess that means that someday you'll be the one who's too old for me." Her eyes flashed to his in surprise only to find well meant mischief and a genuine smile waiting for her. She playfully shoved at his shoulder and he nudged her back with a laugh before meeting another moment of tense seriousness.

"You said that you couldn't feel pain. At all?"

"Not physical pain."

Gabriel reached out to tuck a rogue lock of her hair behind an ear and let his finger tips drift over the skin of her temple and cheek. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes." And there he was, giving her that same look of awe as he had that day in the car, like he had somehow managed to stumble across some long lost treasure of wonder. Her heart fluttered when he slowly leaned in to lightly press their lips together. Before Claire could remember any semblance of self control her fingers were lacing in his hair and they were falling backward onto the mattress. She swung her leg around to straddle him, giving in to the moment with complete abandon, but then he groaned with discomfort at the contact.

"Sorry," he grunted when she stopped. "Still not feeling too, uh… _romantic_ yet."

She pulled a face at the memory of having caused him harm in the vicinity of his body that she was interested in at the time earning her a forgiving chuckle. "Maybe later tonight," he added, brushing his palm against her jaw and down the slope of her neck. "If you to want to come home."

_Home. _"That sounds nice." Claire released him from the pinned position and walked him to the door.

"I'll probably be working late tonight. Since I haven't been in the shop for almost a week I've got a lot to catch up on. I'll try to get back early enough for dinner though."

"Okay." They shared a lingering goodbye kiss before he stepped out.

Turning back after a few steps he smiled and mentioned, "I missed you last night."

"I missed you too."

* * *

><p>Gabriel sat quietly amidst the rhythmic ticks and tocks of his shop attempting to focus on his work, but however hard he tried his thoughts kept returning to Claire and all the things that they had talked about that afternoon. His mind wandered from the time piece in his hands again and he sighed, leaning back in his chair. When his eye caught the Sylar Field Edition replica on the edge of his work table he picked it up and turned it over in his fingers a few times. It had become a bit of a symbol in some ways of the girl that had brought it to him and the life path that she had started him on. He wasn't just dull Gabriel Gray anymore. He had a purpose. He was <em>special<em>, even if it was only to one other person.

He unscrewed the back of the watch and looked into the intricate inner workings as they functioned in perfectly timed synchronizations. It was complicated and full of layers that had to be pried apart before reaching the core, a mystery. Just like her.

_The more I learn about her, the less I understand. But the more I want to. _His musings about the strange young woman brought a smile to his face and a quiet laugh which were interrupted by the opening of the shop's door. Gabriel was thankful that he had thought to bring his table out from its hiding place in the back of the work room. Since he had removed the bell from above the entrance it had been difficult to hear customers coming in and he might have missed the business otherwise, especially since he had technically been closed for nearly an hour.

"Can I help you?" he addressed the older gentlemen with grayed hair.

"I hope so, Mr. Gray," he answered with an expectant expression that bordered an eager smile. The man approached him with a book tucked under his arm, but it was the watch on his wrist that captured Gabriel's attention. It practically screamed at him for care, being out of sync with the rest of the clocks inhabiting the shop.

"I can fix it," he noted absent mindedly, moving to remove the piece from the visitor's wrist.

"My watch isn't broken."

"Actually it is." It ticked again out of time and the internal perfectionist in his nature twitched. The man gave him another odd look of unspoken expectations, but relented, handing the watch over. He watched with a faint smile as Gabriel lifted the piece to his ear to listen. Every part became a visual entity in his mind, twisting together and overlapping into a greater whole that could tell him exactly what it needed to work. "The self-winding coil is loose. Your watch is running two seconds slow."

"How did you know?"

"Just a talent I have for the way things work. How the parts should go." Gabriel took one of his precision screw drivers and began to gingerly pull the backing away so that he could tend to the problem.

"That looks rather complicated," his visitor noted with a gesture towards the Sylar watch that had been set to the side.

"That, oh, the body is standard but the parts, the insides, are German. 1917. I worked on it for seven years." Gabriel let a stunted laugh of triumph escape him once he had successfully tightened the erroneous coil and handed the watch back to the man at his side.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, please, don't worry about it." He half expected the man to turn and leave as any other customer would, but the stranger remained, hovering. The man just kept standing there looking at him as if he were waiting for some kind of event to occur. Something tickled in the back of his mind that told him his visitor wanted much more from him than a simple repair for his time piece. "You didn't come here for the watch."

"I came to find you, Gabriel," he announced with a certain amount of pride that caught his attention and held it. Gabriel rose to his feet, curious and perhaps a bit anxious with the surprise. "My name is Chandra Suresh. I'm a geneticist. I have a theory about human evolution and I believe you are a part of it." Suresh handed him the book that had been resting underneath his arm. Gabriel glossed over the cover, the title of _Activating Evolution_ peaking his interest. "Read it. If you'd like to talk more you'll find my phone number and address inside."

Without another word the scientist departed from the store leaving the watch maker hopelessly confused. Gabriel flipped through the pages of the book until he came to rest on a page that gave examples of potential super human abilities that were a product of the natural course of human evolution.

_She said there were more of them, _he thought to himself as he read a brief description of an ability called Telekinesis. _And Suresh thinks that I could be one of them…_

Gabriel remembered his words to Claire, promises that he could work harder and be more. It hadn't escaped him in the least bit that she had never really answered his impromptu marriage proposal, but at the time he had just been worried that it had been too soon, or that she didn't believe he could ever be enough for her. He hadn't brought it up again fearing that he would push her away but after the afternoon's conversations… Gabriel had realized that he really _wasn't_ enough for her. Until just then.

_I could be like her. I could be special too. I can show her that I can be good enough… _

He didn't have to simply hope that she would genuinely love him and stay. He could make her.

**To be continued...**


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry for the long wait on the update. I've had some issues with writer's block on this one that I had to work my way through. Thanks again for all the great reviews! 17 for the last chapter so yet another new record! There have been a few questions that came up which I really can't answer without giving away some major plot points, but I had already promised an Elle appearance before**** for someone that will be coming up in the future. And yes, the rabbit hole is deep for almost all characters involved. There was definitely a reason why the song "Cry Little Sister" inspired this fic.**** Without further ado, here's chapter 20. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>March 25, 2006<em>

'_My work with the human genome project has uncovered the fact that tiny variations in our species' genetic code are taking place at an increasingly rapid rate. This should come as no surprise. So-called evolution is just that - evolving. It is an ongoing process with no beginning and no end. As the world around us changes due to technology, shifts in environmental patterns, overcrowded living conditions, war, disease, and hundreds of other seen and unseen factors, mankind reacts, mankind changes._

'_We evolve._

'_Currently, mankind uses less than a tenth of his brain power; there are even those that believe we use much less than that. And though the human brain is the most remarkable mechanism we know of on earth, it is still highly inefficient and can only interpret the most obvious and base of senses: sight, smell, sound, passion, fear. But add a mere additional two neural pathways and the brain could interpret wavelengths at a frequency a thousand times greater than our current capacity, giving us the ability to hear each other's thoughts._

'_What else could the human brain and body achieve with the subtlest changes in biochemistry? Teleportation, levitation, instantaneous tissue regeneration, precognition, telekinesis, and even invisibility are well within the realm of possibility. Could it even be happening already? _

'_I believe that it is.'_

"You have no idea just how right you are, Dr. Suresh," Gabriel spoke to himself in the quiet of his shop. He still couldn't shake the image of Claire's healing ability from his mind. Even though he hadn't really wanted to cut into her hand, watching her body sew itself back together flawlessly was undoubtedly the most beautiful thing that he could have ever imagined. She could never be hurt. Never grow sick or old. Never die. She couldn't even feel pain, but pleasure on the other hand… A devious smirk curled in the corner of his mouth.

She was perfect in every sense of the word.

"Gabriel? What are you up to back here?" And there she was, leaning against the doorframe to his work room appearing every bit of the golden haired angel that he saw her as.

"Uh," he looked down at the book in his hands and firmly closed it. "Just working on a surprise." Gabriel covertly slid his copy of _Activating Evolution _into a desk drawer before spinning his chair around to face her.

"A surprise?" she smiled seductively, walking over to him. "What kind of surprise?"

"The kind that wouldn't be very surprising if I told you about it," he responded with a mischievous eye roll.

"I see," she laughed, leaning to give him a peck. "Well, I was going to be nice and bring you lunch, but if you're just going to be keeping secrets from me…" Claire started to turn to walk away. She didn't even get to take a full step before Gabriel's arms shot out to seize her by the waist and pulled her down into his lap.

"Why, how very kind of you, Ms. Bennet." He pulled the brown paper sack out of her hand and dropped it off on his desk top with a wicked grin. "I'll be sure to devour every," kiss, "delicious," kiss, "bite right away!"

"Ah! Gabriel!" she squealed, helplessly kicking her feet into the air when he made a prompt attempt to consume her neck. "I am _not_ on the menu!"

"I disagree." Gabriel picked her up effortlessly and sat her down on the end of the desk, bending over her until she was practically laying down on the polished surface. "You're quite edible," he added with a devilish wagging of his eyebrows.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked with a shy smile of suppressed delight.

"You." He grabbed her by the hips and gave her body a sharp tug so that her bottom balanced precariously on the edge of the desk and her legs could wrap around him, bringing their bodies into a dangerous sense of proximity. Goosebumps excitedly prickled over her skin when his mouth enthusiastically attacked all of the points that he knew would drive her into a hormonally charged frenzy.

"If I knew that," she gasped, drawing a hiss of air through her teeth, "telling you I was a freak would make it like this…" Claire grasped the back of his neck to draw him even closer with a shiver. "I would have done it so much sooner."

Gabriel stopped short in his manipulations and captured her jaw to bring her attention back to him. "You are not a _freak_," he enunciated clearly, holding back on the harsh tone that wanted to leak into his voice. "You're… _perfect_." He released her face to continue his progress down her neck, failing to notice that her intentions had faded from lust to worried contemplation. "You're beautiful," he murmured into her skin as a calloused hand slipped over her stomach. "And strong… Not like the others." He rolled against her suggestively before taking a leg and bracing it on his chest. "_Special_," he added, giving her sharp nip on the inside of her thigh. "And… really too short for this." They both examined the awkward position that he had worked them into with a burst of laughter, biological logistics clearly putting a few restrictions on their love life.

"Probably for the best," Claire giggled, pulling her legs down from him to sit up. "Somebody could walk in and see us." _Or we could be caught on camera…_

The way he quirked a brow at her made her internally question whether Gabriel would have had a problem with that scenario. "I could close. It is my lunch break after all."

"Gabriel, have you been looking at dirty magazines again?"

"No!" he instantly denied with a bright cherry blush creeping into his cheeks. He dove back into her neck to take a deep pull of her scent. "Why would I need something like that when I have the real thing waiting for me at home?"

"Uh huh. Nice try."

He groaned in defeat while still being concealed in her hair. "In my defense they can be quite creative. I thought that maybe we could borrow a few ideas…" A pair of lost puppy brown eyes rolled up to look at her. "I want to keep you happy."

"You want to keep me happy?" Claire laced her fingers through his hair. "Be yourself. Just be Gabriel." He nodded despondently and she lifted his chin to press their lips together, heightening his spirits again. "So, _exactly_ how much thought did you put into that little plan?"

"Apparently not enough," he noted with closely drawn brows after catching on to her insinuation. "I guess I'll have to start packing some provisions in my wallet like all the other boys."

"Or you could, you know, actually close up and come home at a descent hour," she suggested with a playful peck for the end of his nose. Gabriel hadn't been returning to the apartment that they shared before midnight for the entire week since the revelation of her ability. Claire couldn't deny that she was worried by the growing distance between them with the increasing amount of time spent apart. However, it was given a sharp contrast by the way he would incessantly cling to her when they were together. He always had to be touching her, holding her hand, kissing her, telling her how wonderful she was. Not that those things in any way really bothered her, but there was something in the level of adoration that he showered her with that was different somehow from what it had been before. Something about him had changed, was still in the process of changing. She could sense it in the air about him, feel it in his presence. See it in his eyes when he looked at her.

And yet, there didn't seem to be any way to tell what it was that Gabriel was up to. Claire and the Haitian had spent hours every evening watching his movements over the shop's video feed. He would work through his usual routine of tinkering and cleaning, but more and more he would just sit in his work room out of sight of the camera reading, or remain in a statuesque position of quiet thought. All harmless enough activities since he never left the store, but it was the way he behaved when he did come home that she found the most unsettling.

Claire would typically depart the Haitian's side for home around nine when the day's fatigue would catch up with her and she felt that she could barely keep her bleary eyes open. In the wee hours of the morning she would wake to find Gabriel, having silently entered, undressed, and crawled into bed with her, watching her sleep while his fingers drew paths over her exposed skin. His dark eyes seemed to take in every inch of her form at once, piercing through her to study the metaphysical beyond. It was even more unnerving when he wasn't simply watching her.

On a few nights she had woke to the feel of his lips on hers, his hands roaming to explore her body. Upon noticing her abrupt alertness he would roll over her and press her down into the mattress so that she was firmly pinned beneath his weight before hoisting her legs to wrap around him. He had barely hesitated to enter her, vigorously making love to her with some fresh source of passion. Claire still felt confident that had she wholeheartedly resisted in any way that Gabriel would have immediately stopped what he was doing, but his increasing aggression was far from going unnoticed.

Her stomach growled and he chuckled quietly, withdrawing from her to pick up the brown paper sack holding their lunch. Gabriel made a strange face when he pulled out a package of coconut snowballs. "Oh, those are for me," Claire explained, snatching the processed snack food from his grasp along with a bag of cheese puffs and chicken strips. "The sandwich is for you."

He pulled another face watching her rip open the wrapping of the coconut snowballs and take a healthy bite. "You hate coconut," he blurted out. "_Anything_ coconut…"

"I know," she grumbled with her mouth full. "I don't know why they sounded so good today, but I just had to have one."

Gabriel shook his head at her, muttering something along the lines of _I don't get it_. "I don't suppose it would do any good to lecture you about the junk that you're putting in your body right now," he chided her after a few minutes of eating in silence, taking careful note of how she had reserved the junk food for herself while packing more sensible foods for him.

"Nope," she replied flippantly, smirking a touch as she took another bite of the fried chicken.

"Of course, I don't suppose it matters for you does it? Not like you'll ever have to worry about cholesterol or heart disease." _But I do and she knows it. _Claire happily continued to pack her mouth with obscene amounts of food while he looked on past his own lunch. Gabriel was darkly staring at her again the way he did in the night. In the ticks and tocks of the watch shop she could almost feel the wheels turning behind his eyes with mechanical ideas as his gaze settled on her midsection, an eyebrow slowly ascending after a moment's study. "You can gain weight though."

Claire spluttered her soda ready to protest his observation when he was suddenly right in front of her again holding a finger to her mouth for quiet. "Your waistline has increased by 6.36 centimeters in diameter." She nipped at his finger grouchily so he allowed the palm of his hand to slide over her belly. Leaning in to whisper in her ear with a lowered voice he added, "I kind of like it." A shiver rippled through her body as he continued to caress the skin on her stomach. "Your skin is so sensitive."

"Gabriel," she gasped his name when he reattached his mouth to her neck. The moment was wrong. Everything about it felt forced rather natural as though it wasn't _her_ sweet Gabriel pulling the strings. She tensed up under him, pressing her palms against his chest in an unspoken signal to stop what he was doing. He pulled away far enough to turn the full force of his puppy brown eyes on her in an expression of hurt, shooting her with an inexplicable pang of guilt.

"Still not feeling well?" he asked, sweeping a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I'm fine," she promised. "I'm just tired. I think I'll head home and take a nap."

"Alright." He gave her a sincere smile. When she started to leave he latched onto her wrist, spinning her back to him. Taking the back of her neck he insisted on gaining her eye contact. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do."

"Good." His lips hovered over hers, gaining acceptance of the motion before bestowing a light kiss and releasing her to leave. "I'll be home early tonight. I promise."

_She's leaving me. She doesn't even know it yet, but she's going to leave me. _Claire hadn't left Gray and Sons for more than a minute, Gabriel watching her pass by the front window, before he picked up the phone and dialed the number that Dr. Suresh had left in his book.

"Hey," she called, opening the door of the Primatech van that waited down the block from the watch shop. The Haitian turned from the monitor that he had been watching. "Keep a careful eye on him tonight. I…" she faltered, trying to find a way to communicate the thoughts that reluctantly clung to the back of her mind. "There's something going on with him and I don't know what it is." René nodded in quiet agreement. Claire was about to slid the door shut again when she paused, looking back to her dark skinned partner. "Why do I always have the feeling that you know something I don't?" He simply gave her a look that had her shaking her head. "Right."

René turned back to his screen once the girl was gone, quirking a brow for the scene awaiting him. Gabriel was standing behind the counter staring intently at a watch he had placed on the glass surface. The man could have been in another one of his catatonic states of thought had he not shot forth an outstretched hand to beckon the object to him. His motion was fruitless, but none the less an indication of future prospects. "Because I do, Claire. Because I do."

* * *

><p>"So, what? You're going to cut <em>me<em> open?" Gabriel asked in an attempt at humor upon sighting Chandra's open medical text.

"I'd like to run some tests," the scientist laughed, pouring himself a cup of tea. "EEG, EKG, nothing invasive. A friend at Columbia has access to an MRI." Chandra gestured for them to have a seat at his desk in front of a series of maps boasting colored strands of yarn connecting photos of other potentials.

"Mapping the brain?"

"Measuring alpha waves, resting rates, neuron clusters," he explained taking his seat. "The brain controls every human action. Voluntary or involuntary. Every breath, every heartbeat. Every emotion. If the soul exists, scientifically speaking, it exists in the brain." Gabriel listened intently to every word that the other man spoke, finding an irrefutable sense of logic in the theory.

He smiled, joining his counterpart. "When I was a kid I used to wish that some stranger would come and tell me that my family wasn't my family. They weren't _bad_ people. They were just insignificant. And I wanted to be different. _Special_. I wanted to change. A new name. A new life. The watchmaker's son… became a watchmaker. It is so futile. And I wanted to be… important."

"You are important, Gabriel," Chandra declared excitedly.

"What do you think my abilities might be?"

"Well, it's quite difficult to say without some testing," the geneticist chuckled. "Can you think of anything out of the ordinary that has happened to you recently?" _A few things actually… _"Perhaps strange occurrences of objects moving without being touched, or maybe going without being noticed when faced with a particular person that you didn't want to see you?"

"No, I don't believe so. Nothing like _that_." Gabriel got up from his seat to wander over to Chandra's maps behind the desk, glancing over the web of strings and glossing over the photos until a specific one happened to grab his attention.

"Perhaps there is some talent that you may possess which others do not? Maybe something recently acquired? An increased sense of intuition, perception of the emotions or thoughts of those around you?"

"No, I don't think so." He reached forward to take the picture of a young girl from Texas with waves of curling blonde hair and a beaming smile into his fingers. Suresh stood to note what his subject had found so interesting, peering around Gabriel's shoulder to the image that he held.

"Ah, Miss Claire Bennet. Do you know her?"

He instantly dropped his grasp on the picture, snapping his attention back to the scientist at his side. "No, I'm afraid I don't. She's very beautiful."

Chandra gave him a brief look of reproach before shaking it off. "Yes, I'm sure she'll be a lovely young woman when she comes of age. She's barely fifteen at this time though." Gabriel didn't miss out on the subtle tone of disapproval in the doctor's voice.

_Fifteen? _His tongue felt like a wad of cotton shoved into the sudden dryness of his mouth. He clutched at his stomach for a moment, feeling the acid rise in the back of his throat as his gut turned over. But it was too late. He already loved her and regardless of her true age, which seemed quite arguable by that point in time, he couldn't just let her go. _At least her father hasn't come back to kill me yet. I guess it's a good thing that I asked to meet him. _

"If you don't mind I would like to take a blood sample for analysis this afternoon."

"That sounds like a fine idea," he agreed, the other man's voice bringing him out of his reverie again. "I think you'll find that I'm _very_ eager to get started." _Anything to discover whatever power I have. Anything to keep her. God, I really am going to hell. Pervert._

Chandra left the room to retrieve his kit for taking the blood sample allowing Gabriel enough time to pluck Claire's picture from the map and shove it into his back pocket. He felt that she had a valid reason for wanting to keep her ability a secret and he would do whatever was necessary to help her maintain that.

**To be continued...**


	21. Chapter 21

_April 15, 2006_

Gabriel sighed heavily, sinking further back into his chair and taking a deep pull from his drink until the ice clinked in the empty bottom of the glass. The warmth of the liquor ran its course down his throat sooner than he would have liked it to. He pressed the smooth exterior of the glass to his forehead in hopes that the chill would help to soothe the dull throbbing ache residing there. At some point during his debate whether to refresh his drink in the quest for relief or not the girl in the next room caught his eye bringing the slightest curl of a smile to his lips.

He wasn't the kind of man to drink often or out of habit. But as he stumbled into the kitchen to retrieve the lonesome bottle of Scotch, something purchased for him as a gift several years previous by a customer extraordinarily grateful for a restoration on a family antique, he couldn't help but be thankful for the numbing effects of the alcohol on a headache that simple aspirin couldn't touch anymore. Gabriel filled his glass one final time for the night, wincing once at the finely aged burn as he drained it before teetering off to the bedroom.

Claire lay securely bundled beneath the blankets, blissfully oblivious to the racket produced when he stumbled about attempting to remove his shoes as well as the creak of the bed when he sat down beside her. Long fingers combed their way through her golden locks that spilled over the pillow. They had barely survived what was undoubtedly the longest two weeks of _his_ life.

_He had stared relentlessly at the picture that he had pocketed from Dr. Suresh's map for the duration of the ride home that afternoon, memorizing the details of every youthful curve to her face and sunlit curl in her hair, the gentle glimmer of her smile and the subtle twinkle in her eye betraying notions of naïve hope that he had yet to see in her for himself. She was supposed to be fifteen, the picture supposedly having been taken somewhat recently, but the image captured in time was of someone entirely different than the young woman he had come to know. The girl unknowingly returning his gaze from the photo paper was soft and unburdened. Innocent. Claire had never appeared as any of those things to him. She was hard-nosed and to the point, haunted even by invisible weights placed upon her slender shoulders. She was shrewdly intelligent with a quiet calculation of circumstance that was not made of nature but learned through trial and fire. When she knew fear it was not created from emotion or instinctual response for her own preservation, but something strangely akin to frustration or perhaps self-doubt that she could not prevent the inevitable. Claire, for all the layers of intrigue that he had managed to pull apart, remained an anomalous mystery of strength and to some extent brutality. _

"_Claire," he had started, pulling her aside to sit beside him. "I need to ask you something. And I need you to be completely honest with me."_

"_Okay?" Hints of worry rippled over her features before being replaced by the carefully composed mask of the Company girl. Despite a shorter hair style than used in the picture her features were the same. And yet, her face was completely different. It was in her eyes, he decided, shining with a harsh ferocity that changed her every aspect from the girl she had been._

_Gabriel produced her picture from his pocket once more and held it out for her to see. "I promise that I won't be mad no matter what your answer is and I'll believe whatever you say, but I _need _to know. How old are you really?"_

"_Where did you get this?" she quietly demanded taking the photo into her own hands for study._

"_It was on the Union Wells High website." He swallowed thickly past the dry cottony sensation that had returned to his mouth. "You're listed as a freshman there for the 2005 - 2006 school year. Fifteen years old." For the first time in more years than he cared to recall, Gabriel found himself praying. He almost wished for a lie. As much as he cared about the girl he didn't want to believe that he was actually capable of the level of perversion that he was facing. If it _was_ the truth then she wouldn't even be old enough to decide for herself what she thought was acceptable treatment of her body and he would have been reduced to being a twenty eight-year-old predator. A certifiable pedophile. He didn't count himself as being a religious man, but after growing up in a Catholic home he did firmly believe that there were special places in hell for people like that. Never mind what the law would have to say about it._

_Claire sat quietly for what felt like an eternity thinking over all the possible scenarios that could result from her answer. The whole truth was out of the question with any number of ramifications for the future time line, but he had asked for honesty. There was only one answer available. "It's true."_

_Gabriel slumped back into his seat with soul crushing defeat. He couldn't breathe. The walls were baring down on him, squeezing the air in the room until it constricted around his chest and caught in his lungs refusing to relinquish another atom of oxygen. "Oh, God, I'm a monster."_

"_No." Claire crawled over his side seeking attention but he had covered his eyes, bitterly unwilling to reveal them again. "Gabriel, no," she pleaded, climbing onto his lap so that she practically straddled him. _

"_I'm a monster," he continued to whimper. "Please forgive me for I have sinned. Please forgive me…"_

_She had never imagined Sylar being able to break down so thoroughly, not even as Gabriel and the scene unfolding before her… It was more than a little frightening. _

"_Gabriel, please. Look at me," she commanded, making futile attempts at prying his arms away from his face. Had she not chosen to take her position on top of him she wouldn't have been further surprised to see him curl into a ball on the sofa and rock himself back and forth._

"_Monster… Forgive me. Please forgive me, I know not what I do."_

"_Gabriel!" She put the full force of her body into the struggle, straining muscles to that point beyond pain that she could no longer detect until his shell fell apart. "Gabriel, look at me." Claire gingerly removed his smudged glasses to fully take in the hot tears that streamed over his lashes and down his cheeks. "Look at me," she demanded again, pulling his chin up. "You haven't done anything wrong." His eyes snapped open to squint at her, reading into her intentions. "Do I look like a kid to you? Do you think _victim_ when you see me?"_

"_No."_

"_Does _this_ feel wrong to you?" she asked, leaning in to plant a light kiss on his lips._

"_No."_

"_Do you love me?"_

"_You know I do."_

"_You haven't forced or manipulated me into doing anything I didn't want to. And it's not like we're keeping it a secret. So what's the problem?"_

_He stumbled for an answer surprising himself when he couldn't find one. Something told him that Noah Bennet was not the kind of man that would hesitate to use the Strayer Voigt Infinity 1911 .45 caliber semiautomatic that he covertly stowed away in the cover of his jacket, which he reasonably presumed would be undetectable to the typical observer. If he had a problem with his daughter's choices in life, Bennet hadn't taken an obvious issue with him and that was quite arguably the most important of sticking points in Gabriel's mind._

_He had come to the conclusion, after many tenuous reassurances that the rest of their relationship had not been a series of lies, that he really didn't care if she were 15 or 1500. She was still Claire and for all his efforts to redirect his illogical attachments, he still loved her. There wasn't any way to take that back. All the same, their physical relationship had certainly taken a back seat until the required amount of trust could be replenished and each and every kiss that she blessed him with became the sweetest taste of hell that he could imagine_.

"Gabriel?" she mumbled from the fringes of sleep.

"I'm here." He haphazardly stroked strands of her hair away from a sweat beaded brow line.

"You stink," she grumbled irritably. "Are you drunk?"

A bemused smile took possession of his mouth at the increasing keenness of her olfactory senses. "No." A cracked giggle burst from his throat followed by a stunted hiccup. "Maybe a little."

Claire rolled over to shoot him a poisonous glare. Alcohol would apparently have to be added to the list of items with smells that inexplicably upset her as of late he mentally cited. Was it wrong to think that she looked positively adorable when she was trying to be cross with him? The way a little crinkle appeared between her eyebrows and her nose wrinkled while her lips pursed…

"_Gabriel?"_

_He bolted upright to a sitting position from the deepest reaches of sleep at the sound of that voice. _Crap, crap, double crap.

_Virginia Gray knocked only once on the bedroom door before turning the handle, sending a jolt of frenzied panic to shock his heart into alertness. She poked her head inside to witness her son hurriedly disentangling himself from twisted snags of sheets and the heavy arms of his dozing girlfriend. _Shit.

_The jig was up and he knew it even before he watched his mother storm off. _

"_Mom," he called to her softly, stepping out of his room and carefully shutting the door behind himself in false hopes that Claire wouldn't be disturbed from some much needed rest. "It's not what it looks like," he had started sheepishly, pulling on a shirt over his pajama bottoms._

"_This is sin, Gabriel," Virginia growled at him. A deep flush of shame swept over his cheeks. "I should have known when you stopped going to the church…"_

"_Mom, that was twelve years ago!" _Almost as long as Claire's been alive. Ugh.

"_And look at where it's gotten you, Gabriel." He might have stood more than a head taller than his mother but the slight woman had perfected the art of looming over him, pointing a half-cocked finger at his disgrace. "Seduced by that harlot."_

"_Claire is _not_ a harlot."_

"_You don't even see it, boy. That girl has sunk her claws into you. Dragging you away from me and into the hands of the Devil."_

"_Mother." His tone took on a dark sense of warning._

"_Are you going to marry her?"_

_She had caught him off guard with that one. "Well, I - I, um…" He ran a distracted hand through his disheveled hair, not for the first time reliving his failed proposal to the woman in question. How could he explain that he had asked, but… She hadn't even bothered to turn him down. Claire had just elected not to answer the question at all._

"_No. You're just selling your soul to share a bed with a whore."_

_A startled gasp sounded from behind him and if it was possible his heart sank even further. He hadn't even heard her get up to go to the bathroom, but there Claire stood in the open doorway to their bedroom with her mouth open and a hurt glaze to her eyes. "I'm not a whore." It was barely a whisper above the thundering beat of his own pulse in his ears._

"_Get out."_

_Both women turned their rapt attention to Gabriel. His voice was deep and even but it was more than obvious that he was absolutely seething with suppressed rage. "Gabriel?" Virginia started, suddenly unsure of her standing._

"_Get out," he commanded again. When no one made to move he closed the distance between himself and his mother in a few strides and took her roughly by the hand. He dragged her along to the apartment door and as gently as possible with all things considered, shoved her out into the hall._

"_She's holding you back, Gabriel. You're special. You're meant to do something important and she's only going to hold you back."_

"_She's not the one holding me back, Mother. You are. And for the record, it was _exactly_ what it looked like." And with that he unceremoniously slammed the door in Virginia's gaping face._

"_You never told her." Claire's muted voice reached him again. His anger deflated as quickly as it risen when he turned to face her. "I can't believe… All this time and you never told her? What…?" She rubbed her eyes as if she could ward away the situation like some unpleasant dream. "Are you really that ashamed about me?"_

"_Claire, no. It's not like that."_

"_Then tell me what it's like, Gabriel!" The tables were turned. It was her turn to be furious and once again he shrank back in the fashion of a small child. _

"_She wouldn't understand." He half-heartedly gestured to the door as though it should have been able to answer all of her inquiries. "She expected me to get married before…" he waved a hand to indicate the whole of their situation. Claire's anger too dissipated, the corners of her mouth falling into a frown that he didn't quite understand. _

"Does it make your head feel better?"

"Better than anything else I've tried so far." She nodded with understanding even though he seriously doubted that she even knew what a headache would feel like and kindly chose to ignore the way his words slurred a bit at the end. Her hand twined into his with a little sigh for the pillow and he knew that he wouldn't be in metaphorical dog house for much longer.

"I hope you're not coming down with something."

"I imagine I've probably picked up your flu. Surprised I didn't catch it earlier… but then again Lysol is a wonderful product to have around."

A small smile flickered in her eyes, replaced all too soon by a look that he wished he hadn't seen so often of late. "Gabriel, I don't feel so great."

"I'll get the crackers."

"_Well? Anything yet?"_

_Chandra poured over endless graphs and analysis reports, shaking his head despondently. "Nothing yet it seems. All of your blood work has come back as being perfectly ordinary. Hormone levels are all within average ranges…" The doctor flipped his chart over to take in another set of statistics._

_After two weeks of various testing methods the duo had yet to discover any indication of what Gabriel's special ability could be. It had only taken one day at an obstacle course to determine that, while he had an intuitive understanding of how he needed to make his body function for the test, he had lacked any form of superior strength, agility or speed. Hours on a treadmill had displayed his bull-headed inability to give up, pushing his body beyond normal limits, but enhanced endurance or stamina were also crossed off the list of potential powers. Endless rounds of flashcards had failed to produce any forms of precognition or telepathy. _

_The only area where he exceeded the expectations of the average human being were in mental capacity. That had given Suresh some hope that perhaps Gabriel's ability would be a cerebral one. However, after endless puzzles meant to strain logical capabilities, which Gabriel genuinely enjoyed, and all manner of psycho-social study, he was once again revealed to be completely normal if not somewhat emotionally and socially stunted. Scans that had been taken while Gabriel was required to do his best not to think at all and then to answer questions designed to stimulate specific portions of the brain had also failed to indicate anything out of the ordinary. His reflexes, balance, blood pressure, stress management, conductivity, reaction speed, space awareness, nerve pulses and miscellaneous other forms of measurement said nothing special at all. _

_At one point after a particularly strenuous series of puzzles he had felt something inside of him… Not snap, that wasn't the correct word for the feeling. Release? Expand? It was as if his mind had been the size of a dime for his entire life and then suddenly allowed to grow to the size of a quarter in an afternoon. Physically he felt no different except for the aching drum beat of pain that throbbed from behind his eyeballs, but his mind… He started to see things slightly differently. What had been simple parts before became a whole of interlocking synchronizations - in _everything_. Gabriel had always had a talent for figuring out how nearly anything could work, how to fix it, how to break it, but that talent had been pushed significantly farther in capacity, slowly continuing to grow and manifest, forcing past the barriers of previous limitation._

"_You're Intelligence Quotient is by far the highest I've ever encountered, but unfortunately genius is not what we're considering to be an evolved ability."_

"_We'll find it, Dr. Suresh," Gabriel assured, more for himself than the disappointed geneticist. "We have to."_

"I thought your regeneration was supposed to keep you from getting sick." He patted her gently on the back with one hand, holding her hair out of the way with the other while she continued to heave.

"I," her stomach surged forward again, "I've never been sick before… I," strangled gasp for air, "don't know what's wrong with me." Claire hunched over the toilet to clutch at the porcelain for support. Gabriel grimaced and looked away while fluids mercilessly sloshed into the water. His own stomach was going to turn on him in a moment.

"I don't know if you can get," hiccup, "dehy-dehydurat- dehydrated or not, but you really need to drink some water when you can." Just the thought seemed to be enough for her back to spasm violently, sending another fountain of regurgitation into the toilet. "It's okay." He tried to console her through his own internal twitches, mentally willing away the urge to dump his head into the bathtub and vomit as well. "Just get it all out. It'll," hiccup, "be alright." Thankfully the bucket of cleaning supplies hadn't moved from its faithful position beside the sink. Lysol, paper towels, disinfectant wipes, rubber gloves and an economy sized package of Saltine crackers patiently waited for use.

"_Stop following me!" Claire flitted through the apartment in another one of her moods. Gabriel continued his trek behind her picking up all manner of chaos left in her wake. He had readjusted the table from where she moved it, put her scattered selection of shoes back into their appropriate locations, returned her laundry to the hamper, and pillaged the kitchen for empty soda bottles and discarded wrappers meant to be in the trash. _

"_Someone has to," he had automatically retorted. Claire stopped her tracks and purposefully brushed one of her magazines off the coffee table onto the floor where the pages wrinkled. Her fiery eyes never left him while he bent over to pick the reading material up and replaced it accordingly._

"_God, you're even more anal than my father!"_

"_And you're a slob!" Gabriel watched her flushed face fall and immediately wished to any higher power that would listen that he could have been able to claw those words back out of existence. A cracked sob escaped her before she collapsed onto the couch in a full blown wail. _

"_Claire, I'm sorry." He plopped down onto the sofa beside her dejectedly. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean -"_

"_Yes you did!" Tears streamed down the length of her face like a set of flood gates had been opened. "And - and I don't even know why I'm crying again!" Gurgled sobs crashed their way through her lips despite her best attempts to hold them back. "I'm not even sad but I'm crying like an idiot and I don't know how to make it stop."_

_Gabriel passed her an open box of tissues which had been designated for her specific use. He wished that that had been the first time an episode of that nature had occurred. He breathed evenly though to remain collected and only winced a little when she blew her nose disgustingly loud._

"_I'm sorry I'm a pig," she sniffled after having a few minutes to calm down._

"_I never said you were a pig, Claire," he sighed._

"_My pants don't fit anymore. I'm getting fat."_

"_You are not fat." Another sniffle threatened more tears so he took her hand and pulled her closer to him, wrapping fatigued arms around her for comfort. The late nights of work with Suresh and coaxing her through her flu bug beside the toilet weren't getting any easier. "You look fine." Her eyes flashed up at him with warning signals to tread carefully. Course correcting before certain disaster he added, "You're beautiful. I love the way you look." And it wasn't a lie. There really was something to be said for the shapliness of her hips and backside.  
><em>

_He never saw it coming. On a hair trigger her mood had changed again and before he could register what was happening Claire had crawled onto his lap, attached her mouth to his and slid her fingers down his shirt to tangle in the buttons. For a not-so-brief moment he greatly appreciated her stimulative enthusiasm, allowing his palms to grace the fullness of her breasts while her hips moved against him, but that little voice in the back of his head made an appearance to say that what he was doing was wrong. Wonderful, incredible, blissful, feel-good wrong. She really had no right to feel so inviting, lush and supple and warm… _Wrong!

"_Claire, no." It was downright painful to push her away especially when she made another reach for his belt buckle, but the moment wasn't right. The growing amount of frustration without release wasn't in any way helping to smooth the course of their relationship. _

"_Please? Don't make me beg. I need it. Please?" She definitely needed it. She didn't have to be sitting on his lap for him to feel the heat that was seeping out of her. Claire leaned in to drop a wet kiss on the pulse of his carotid artery and a whiff of her scent clung to his nose. Hazy thoughts danced around in his head entertaining ideas of breaking down and burying himself inside of her, feeling her constrict and shudder and tremble all around him while he got lost in tangles of blonde hair and broken moans. Who the hell was he kidding?_

"_No, Gabriel. Get off." Somewhere in the process of taking possession of her hips and staking his claim on her cherry lips they had turned over so that she was pinned in the cushions and shoving at his chest._

"_What is your hormonal malfunction?" Claire ran off to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her without another word. He knew she was sick and he had done his best to remain patient with her but… Gabriel needed a break._

_He stepped out of the apartment under the pretense of taking a walk to get some fresh air only to run smack into none other than Noah Bennet. "Gabriel," he older man greeted with a scrutinizing gaze._

"_Sorry, Noah. I didn't see you there."_

_Bennet watched him rub his tired eyes and quickly picked up on the tension in the air. "Trouble in paradise?" Gabriel snapped his attention to Claire's father. There was something in his voice like dry sardonic humor. Was he mocking him? _

"_Your daughter is insane."_

_Noah seemed mildly taken aback for a second but a slow smile crept over his lips followed by a low chuckle. "You don't have very much experience with women do you, Gabriel?" He wanted to be insulted but he couldn't muster the energy for indignant outrage. Noah smiled again, leaning back against the wall next to his counterpart. "There's a little known secret about them, you know." They shared a conspiratorial look before he continued. "They're _all_ insane."_

_The two shared a quiet laugh before the moment turned serious again. "I just wish I knew what was wrong with her," Gabriel blurted out. "She's been so moody lately. One minute she's fine and the next she starts crying even though there's nothing wrong. She's always tired and… She's been getting sick a lot."_

_Something flashed behind the older man's eyes so quickly that he couldn't even be sure what he had caught before it was gone. Recognition? Had Noah seen that kind of behavior before? "Sick like she has the flu?"_

"_That's the only thing that I can think of."_

_Yes, Bennet definitely knew something. "My wife had something like that several years ago." He bit his tongue hard enough that Gabriel thought he could have drawn blood, but the master of cool was careful not to betray a single muscle twitch of knowledge. "Try giving her crackers. Just the regular salted ones. It'll help her stomach."_

_Gabriel nodded in agreement, thankful for any kind of helpful insight from the more experienced male no matter how small. "Go get some air, Gabriel," Noah directed. "It could be a while before she gets over this and you'll need all the down time you can get." There was a clear dismissal in those words that he didn't care to argue so he made to scoot off._

"_Dad?" Claire came out of the bathroom just as he was entering the apartment. _

"_Hey there, Claire Bear," he smiled._

"_What are you doing here?" she asked, giving him a whole-hearted hug in greeting._

"_I got a very interesting call from Chandra Suresh." Panic crossed her haggard features before he continued to explain. "At home, in Odessa. Your name showed up on his list for people with abilities." A small sigh of relief escaped her. It wasn't exactly convenient that the scientist's focus had landed on her, but at least it wasn't on Gabriel._

"_I guess that means that he got his system up and running again."_

"_Don't worry. I've already got Eden McCain working on getting your name off the list."_

_Gabriel pulled his ear away from the door. He hadn't originally meant to eavesdrop on the family conversation but he had remembered that he forgot his keys and turned back to get them before leaving, listening to whether Claire was still upset with him or not before walking in. Stealing her picture from the doctor hadn't been enough effort to keep her from being discovered. Apparently there was a list that she was a part of as well, something on a computer. If the Eden person that Noah had spoken of couldn't handle the situation it would be left up to him to take care of it. Perhaps with his relationship with Suresh he would fare a better chance at getting closer to the information._

_If neither Claire nor her family wanted to be found out then it was his responsibility to help keep their secret safe at all costs._

"Thanks. I think I feel better now." Claire rinsed her mouth out and sat down to nibble on the crackers.

"I guess taking you to the doctor is," hiccup, "out of the question?" She nodded in the affirmative.

"I can't let them take any of my blood."

"Blood," he mused, "right." Weary, inhibited eyes focused their attention on her. Throughout her bout of illness Claire had managed to keep a healthy rose colored glow to her skin and a high gloss shine to her already soft hair. Her lips were full with color. He supposed that her ability had much to do with those aspects but if he wasn't mistaken the process seemed to have picked up in pace. Her hair and nails were growing a fraction quicker than they had before, and from what little his palms had been able to tell him recently her breasts were getting just a touch larger.

"Blood," he muttered again. His alcohol induced daze was clouding his mental acuity but something was occurring in the recesses of his mind. Parts were forming, sliding together like the pieces of a great puzzle to form a picture of function. Claire shifted nervously, watching the color drain from his eyes as the black holes burned into her midsection.

Her resting heart was just a tenth of a second shy from being ten beats higher per minute than it had been when they first met. Her blood pressure however remained steady and the vascular system was functioning in perfect time but an excess of oxygen and nutrient rich blood was being directed to the vicinity of her lower stomach. Gabriel thought he could even detect the generation of a spare artery forming there with according veins. "Human Chorionic Gonadotropin…"

"What?"

"Hormones," he slurred out. "hCG suppresses the immune system."

"Gabriel? Are you okay?"

He was slumping back against the corner where the wall met the tub. She wasn't sure that he registered how he was falling over but his eyes had widened, some brilliant discovery shining behind them.

_Her regeneration is combating the rise of hormone levels which is causing a further increase in their production. Her body is fighting itself. That's why she's such a mess._

"I get it now," he mumbled with a bark of a laugh.

"Gabriel? What do you get? What's suppressing my immune system? I don't understand." Claire had crawled over to his side and tried to shake him awake by the shoulders but it was too late. He closed his eyes and his breathing deepened with oncoming sleep. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his dreaming mouth with a final word for the night. "There's two of you now."

And then he was gone. Out like a light and snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Whatever his discovery was, Claire was left clueless about it and doubted that even he would remember in the morning.

**To be continued...**


	22. Chapter 22

**Did I promise some boiling action soon? Well strap on your seat belts and make sure your trays stay in the up right locked position because this roller coaster is picking up speed and it's going to be one bumpy ride. A quick recap: it's true, Claire's got a bun baking in the oven and she's still clueless about it. She and poor Gabe have never had to worry about that before so there's a whole new experience waiting there. Claire's still got her secrets from Gabriel about who she really is and why she's there, but he's also keeping some dirty secrets about his meetings with Suresh. The lies are stacking up on both sides of the line. Noah knows about his daughter's condition but not Gabe's proximity to abilities. And somehow the Haitian knows everything (doesn't he always?) but he's not sharing with anybody.**

* * *

><p><em>April 16, 2006<em>

Gabriel woke to a thunderous pounding in his head that pulsed away at his temples agonizingly and a harsh crick in his spine that cracked disconcertingly when he pulled himself away from the damp chill on the edge of the tub. His heavy breathing had caused a small pool of condensation on the porcelain surface that clung to his cheek like a swath of drool. He muttered quietly to himself, wiping it away and took note of the blanket that had been draped around him and the cockeyed pillow that had been shoved awkwardly behind his head. Claire hadn't been able to rouse him from his stupor or drag him back to bed so she had at least made at attempt to bring him what comfort she could. The thought would have brought a smile to his face had he not been distracted by the army of tap dancers doing an upbeat number behind his eyeballs. He pulled himself up wishing that his near thirty-year-old body could recover half as quickly as it had been able to a decade ago and flipped on the water to the shower, cranking the dial as far to the hot side as it would go.

After a steamy shower that had singed his skin to a bright pink hue but soothed the aching muscles he set about swiping away from the fog on the mirror for a shave before stepping out to check on Claire. He found her still tucked into bed with a fretful expression on her sleeping face, marveling for a moment at the sweetness in the pout of her lips. There was a compulsion there to kiss to her awake but he shoved it off to the side in favor of getting dressed and saving what disgraced scraps of his soul that remained.

Unfortunately though she was starting to become as disturbingly a light sleeper as he was and the gentle noise of opening the closet was enough to stir her into consciousness. "Morning," she mumbled drowsily, rolling over to look at him. A dark glimmer crossed her eyes when she took in the sight of him standing there in nothing but a towel and suddenly she was wide awake.

"Morning." He wished he hadn't seen her lick her soft cherry lips the way she did. "How's your stomach?"

"Good. I think I'm starting to get over my bug." There was a stirring of forgotten details in the back of his brain but for the life of him he couldn't fish out what it was that could be nagging him so desperately. _I'm never drinking like that again. _"How's your head?"

"Less of a brain crushing migraine and more of a skull cracking hangover today. Hopefully I'm getting over it too."

"That's good." One leg, two legs appeared from beneath the sheets, long for her short stature and sleek with smooth golden skin that almost shined in the light that peeked through the window. _So close and so far away, _he groaned internally. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked trying to focus on finding a shirt.

"Look at me like you want to eat me alive and then turn away."

"Because I have to. I shouldn't even be looking in the first place."

"Because it's wrong?" He didn't like the velvet husk creeping into her voice. She didn't realize at all the effect she already had on him. Gabriel scrunched his eyes shut tight enough to see spots float behind his lids when he heard her slink out of bed knowing only too well how one of his shirts that she used for a night dress would ride up around her thighs.

"Is this wrong too?" A pair of warm palms slid up his back and around his shoulders before slipping over his chest and stomach to rest at the barrier the towel was providing. "Is this _more_ wrong?" Treacherous lips left a moist kiss between his shoulder blades before teeth sunk into the flesh of his shoulder. If it was possible he squeezed his eyes tighter against the onslaught of nails lightly skimming along the path of hair that trailed from his navel downward.

Claire giggled seductively, watching his nostrils flare out as he struggled to keep his breathing in check. Gabriel knew he couldn't look at the impish little smile that would be hiding devious intentions above a bitten bottom lip or the battle would be lost. One bat of those lashes or wag of a finger and she'd have him strung around her pinky finger, defenseless mush.

"You haven't touched me in weeks," she whispered with her lips against his skin so that every word brushed them together. _Because it's wrong. _"I'm getting lonely, Gabriel." _I'll get you a dog. _"Would it be wrong if I found someone else to touch me since you won't?"

That might have been the _wrong_ card to play. Claire back pedaled in a hurry when Gabriel whirled around on her. "I am _not_ your toy." Her knees bumped against the edge of the bed and she nearly lost her balance when he loomed over her, all masculine swagger and assertive confidence with cold fury in his eyes. "I don't like being played with." The menace in his tone should have been flashing warning signals through her body not a shiver of exhilaration. "I'm not just some _thing_ that you can _use_ whenever you feel like it." Hot breath fanned out over her face when he leaned in, their noses a hair's breadth from touching, glaring a deadly dare for her to make a move.

"I'm sorry." It was meant to be a genuine apology for her cruel manipulation but it came out as more of an wanton pant. Her stomach was churning again but not from nausea. His hypnotic black eyes had her locked in place while her heart raced to disperse the burst of adrenaline that had flooded her veins leaving her in a light headed daze. For the longest second of her life he broke away to glance down at her parted lips. _Did Hiro just show up and freeze time? _And then he descended on her, snatching her up and crushing their mouths together with the power to steal the air from her lungs. Every twist of his lips and nip of his teeth screamed _'mine'. _

Her threat was an empty one to begin with but if she had ever actually thought about anyone else before he was sure as hell going to make sure she never did again.

_So much for getting any work done today. _Gabriel was going to be late for his appointment with Suresh although he felt incredibly confident that he had a legitimate reason. The sun had long ago passed by the noon mark before he could even tug a pair of pants on over his rubbery legs. He hurried to whip a comb through his hair, sparing a glance for the little blonde that was sprawled out over the mattress snoring away with a lingering crimson flush coloring her over sensitized skin. For any other woman the slightest brush of a feather probably would have crossed the threshold between pleasure and pain after all the things that he had done to her. Of course there had been a solid hour where he had been extremely concerned about the police showing up. Between the pounding on the thin walls of the apartments on either side of his and the heavy knocking that had continued at their door he thought for sure that someone would call for help believing that he was either killing her or that she really had found God. Gabriel was more than certain that they would both be sleeping well that night. Right after repairing the plaster damage behind the headboard.

* * *

><p>"Why do you repair watches, Gabriel?" Chandra asked somewhat drearily. He already knew the answer from previous conversations but continued to watch the dancing lines of brain wave activity on his monitor for some form of significant response.<p>

Gabriel released a puff of air in frustration, not wanting to relive the memory again. "My father didn't really give me a choice." _It was take over the family business and suffer or watch Mother be thrown into the streets… to suffer. And for what exactly? What did he find to do that was so much better he couldn't even leave through the normal channels? Divorce? Custody proceedings? No time for that. I have to go fetch a pack of cigarettes that takes twenty damn years to acquire. I hope he gets cancer and chokes on it._

"Yes, but why not do what you want to do? Change?"

"You used a phrase in your book…" he recalled from a particular passage in _Activating Evolution_ that had struck a nail with him. '_When evolutions selects its agents, it does so at a cost… This force, evolution, is not sentimental.'_

"_Evolutionary imperative_."

"That which we are destined to do."

"Sea turtles die on the exact same beach where they were born. Lions slaughter gazelles. Spiders eat their young. They don't want to. They _have_ to."

A spike of activity appeared as Gabriel mentally turned over the proposed idea causing a brief moment of wide-eyed hope in the doctor, but then it was gone again having failed to breech expected parameters. Suresh sighed heavily, defeated, and turned off his monitor. "Well, the good news is you're healthy."

"You mean _normal_?" He rolled his eyes and let his hands drop onto the desk's surface dejectedly when Chandra rose from his seat to remove the sensory cables connecting his head to the machine. "There are still no signs?"

"No."

"Well, maybe tomorrow? We're still going to the CT scan, right?"

"I think we should prepare for the possibility that I may have been wrong. You may not have a special ability."

Gabriel jumped up from his seat feeling his opportunity for something more slip between his fingers. "I'm so close. I can _feel _it." _It's like it's on the tip of my tongue but I just can't get it out._ Chandra started to open mouth with another note of dismissal. "You came to me!" he exclaimed, grasping at straws and out of control for the climbing volume of his voice. "I am on your list!"

"These tests aren't one hundred percent." The placating tone in the geneticist's voice was insult to a fresh forming injury.

"Don't give up on me." Panic welled in his stomach as the words came out half desperate plea, half command. _Don't tell me I'm not special. Don't tell me that I'm stuck in this life that I didn't want. Don't tell me that I'm going to wake up tomorrow and she'll be gone because she'll realize that she can do so much better with someone like her. Don't tell me that I'll be left all alone with no one to give a damn about me because I'm just another nobody in the crowd._

_Don't be my father and abandon me and take away my chance at something better… Not again._

"There are other opportunities I need to focus on." Suresh was straining his capacity for social propriety, trying to firmly dissuade the younger man from pushing him any farther without degrading to rudeness.

Gabriel's eyes flickered to the stack of profiles for people with potential abilities resting on the edge of the desk. "What like these people?" he demanded, snatching the pile of folders. "They're important? This guy?" He peeled off a yellow sticky note attached to the top profile with a name and contact information written on it. "Brian Davis? You think he's telekinetic? He can move things with his mind or are you just going to toss him aside too?" Gabriel flung Davis's folder across the room before tossing away the others as well, using the situation for a distraction to his slight of hand. While Chandra's eyes were following his flying work, he palmed the note with Davis's information and slid it carefully up his sleeve where it would remain concealed. Years of handling minute watch parts with specialty tools had made his hands incredibly dexterous and he was able to pull off such maneuvers with speed and ease.

"You better leave _now_, Mr. Gray." He could see it in his eyes, the way they widened and his heart jumped in pace that Chandra had been disturbed by the uncharacteristic outburst, even intimidated by it however well he had remained calm. The doctor was eyeing him like some kind of feral beast whose slightest movement could not be trusted. Gabriel blinked twice at him, logically detailing what had just transpired between them and cataloguing the event for future reference. He didn't want to admit it to himself really, but… as he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair he had been using and stalked out of the apartment he realized that there was something strangely exciting about sensing fear that he had caused. He had never been able to fluster anyone quite like that before and a darker part himself enjoyed it. For once being the bully instead of the bullied.

Stepping out into the bright afternoon sunlight of the city streets, Gabriel took a moment to breathe. He should have been hailing a cab. Should have been going home to check on Claire. But instead the sticky note with Brian Davis's information that he had swiped slid out from his sleeve and into his waiting hand.

_I'm smart. _She_ thinks so. Even Suresh admitted as much. If I could just see what it is… I could figure it out. I can figure _anything_ out. I can still be special. It's not too late to fix this._

He narrowed his eyes with determination, knowing that a pay phone was just down the block and around the corner. He could call Davis, set up a meeting, see what it was that the man could do that he couldn't. Figure it out. Figure it _all _out.

Noah Bennet's cab slid to a stop outside of Chandra Suresh's apartment. Just as he exited the vehicle he caught sight of a familiar figure. Noah was just about to call out to Gabriel in greeting when an unexpected host of information entered his thoughts. He glanced back at the building before him, finding the address correct with his designated appointment and then at Gabriel's retreating back again. _Oh, boy._

Noah quickly decided against drawing attention to himself and entered Suresh's building, taking out his phone and punching in the first speed dial. "René? I think we have a problem…"

"Yes, hello ma'am. I, um, I'm calling for Brian… Davis? Is he at home by chance?" Gabriel shuffled about in the phone booth nervously, counting out his breaths so that he hopefully wouldn't come across as anxious as he felt. "Oh, okay. Well, um, I am… working for a Dr. Suresh. Yes ma'am, the geneticist. I'm helping with his, uh, research as an undergrad at the university. Is there any way that I can get you to take a message for me?" His confidence increased with each word that was being passed off as an acceptable plan and he began to prattle away about a grand research project that Davis had been _specially_ selected to participate in for his extraordinary talent. After giving the address for his shop as the meeting place, Gabriel gratefully thanked the Mrs. and hung up the line with a beaming smile. Sure, he had just lied through his teeth but after everything was said and done Brian's minor inconvenience would be a small price to pay for turning the page and beginning the next chapter of his life anew.

On his way out of the phone booth awareness caught his attention that he wasn't alone. Well, of course he wasn't alone in the depths of New York City on a considerably decent afternoon, but it wasn't the eyes of the casual passerby that he felt raising the hairs on the back of his neck. It wasn't a passing glance that he felt baring down on him but a lingering stare. Gabriel tossed a look over his shoulder and spotted a rather curious man unabashedly watching him. He was tall and fitted with defining muscle, dark skinned and gazing at him with something like suspicion and a cell phone held to his ear. A shiver crawled up Gabriel's spine and he couldn't clear his head. It was impossible to think clearly with the stranger's eyes boring holes into him that way. An overwhelming need to escape the relentless stare took over him and he followed his feet instinctually to make a getaway as quickly as possible.

"Oh, my, that's some mess you've got there," Noah smiled, shamelessly kicking up the southern charm as he graciously entered Chandra's apartment and spied the toppled stack of folders strewn about the floor.

"Yes, please excuse that," Suresh apologized promptly with a little embarrassment. "I'm afraid that my last appointment didn't end on such a warm note."

"I guess not." He knelt down to assist the scientist in collecting his work. "That must have been the young man that I passed on the way up here. He looked pretty upset." It wouldn't take a man with his level of training to detect the waves of tension that had been rolling off of him.

"Hmm, Gabriel, yes. He can be a very…" Chandra pause for a moment thinking over a variety of word choices for his description. _Tightly wound? Emotional? Unstable? _Noah mused to himself, careful not to betray his history with the character in question. "_intense_ individual sometimes."

He spotted a folder with Claire's name on it hidden amongst the stack and mentally noted that it had already been emptied out before passing the pile of research back to the doctor. "It's just as well I imagine," Chandra continued. "Since I've been meeting with him a curious amount of my research has gone missing."

"Really?" The surprise in his voice wasn't entirely false. _He's already looking into collecting abilities? We might be too late._

"Yes. That is,.. That's actually one of the reasons that I needed to speak with you I'm afraid." Noah quirked a questioning brow at Chandra, encouraging him to elaborate further. "Mr. Gray seems to have taken a rather unfortunate interest in your daughter, Mr. Bennet." _Tell me something I don't know. _"He happened across a picture of Claire that I had and…" he chewed on his tongue thinking over how to best phrase his concerns. "Gabriel made a remark about how beautiful she was. It seemed harmless enough at the time, but when the picture disappeared and then the contact information that I had set aside to reach you with."

"Do you think that he's a threat to her? Should I be worried?"

"No, no," the doctor was quick to dismiss the thought. "He's never struck me as a truly violent or dangerous man. As a father myself I felt that it was my duty to inform you about his keen interest in the girl."

"I appreciate your concern. I'll keep an eye out for him." _And a gun. We have to assume that he knows about Claire's ability now and if he tries to hurt her… Especially after what he's already done._

Noah needed to shake away those thoughts before his temper got the best of him. He sidled up to Chandra's map of potentials and tried to absorb as much of it as possible for future reference without appearing overly interested. "So what's going to happen to my Claire? How is this genetic abnormality going to affect her?"

* * *

><p>Noah thought for sure that all of their best laid plans had been for naught when he dragged his weary bones into Angela's office that evening. She and the Haitian were already patiently awaiting his arrival when he took his seat in front of her desk. "I think we need to discuss mission termination in the event of failure," he started. "I had a meeting with Suresh this afternoon," he continued without waiting for a reaction. "Claire's made her way onto his list along with Nathan and Peter. Eden is on her way now to take care of that, but all of Claire's paperwork has already mysteriously gone missing." He paused to study Angela's carefully composed mask of unsurprise. "I ran into Gray while I was there. He was leaving just as I coming."<p>

"So Gabriel has made contact with Chandra then?"

"Looks that way."

"And you believe that he's gained access to the list as well as knowledge of Claire's ability?"

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Angela's lips tightened into a thin frown. "I see." She spared a glance for the Haitian. "And you've been watching him this entire time." The dark skinned man nodded in the affirmative. "Have you seen any evidence that Claire's in danger or that Gabriel has started gaining abilities?" There was a solid silence of a resounding _no_. "Then the mission will continue as planned."

"There's something else," Noah butted in grimly. "Claire has come down with some… symptoms." Angela peaked an eyebrow in interest. "Odd behavior, overly emotional." He had to bite his tongue again to keep from losing his temper at the thoughts that were racing through his mind. "Apparently she's been getting sick regularly." He didn't need to insinuate anymore. Recognition flashed across her features along with another emotion that was alien on her face. They were all gone the instant that they had appeared but not before he had caught them there.

"I see." Her closed for a moment while she thought over everything that had just been discussed. "We'll set up a contingency plan for the event of complete failure but I will not terminate just yet."

"Angela, we don't have time to play the sit and wait game. The man is going to turn into a -"

"I've been in this game for a long time now, Noah," she interrupted harshly. "Long enough to trust in what I see. And that is _exactly_ what I am going to do."

"You never had any intention of killing him, did you?" he asked incredulously. All of the orders to watch over him, studying his life before acting suddenly started to seem a lot more like an elaborately orchestrated scheme instead of a true assassination directive. They had never had to spend so much time on one target before. In fact, up until that point it had been discouraged lest an agent start to become attached to their mark. And for all his denial it was becoming clearer by the day that Claire had already fallen into that trap.

"I assure you, Noah. Gabriel Gray _will _die. No one murders my son and gets away with it." He started to protest again but she held up her hand to wave away the words before they spill out of his mouth. "The butterfly effect is a tricky thing. Step on the wrong one and years later a million people will die. This mission is all about finding the _right_ butterfly and crushing it into oblivion."

"What are you really up to?"

"Saving the world."

**To be continued...**


	23. Falling: Part I

**I really wanted to try and get into Gabriel's head for this chapter which resulted in some technobabble that I should probably slap a disclaimer on. I've never seriously studied in the areas of psychology or medicine (or anything else for that matter) so I am in no way qualified to actually know what I'm talking about. That being said please keep in mind that it's just entertainment - not to be taken seriously and have mercy on me. **

**This is a major plot chapter that has been divided into two for reading ease so without further ado I present:**

**Falling: Part I**

* * *

><p><em>April 18, 2006<em>

"We should go out tonight."

Claire peeked up at him from her glass of orange juice that she had paused to sniff. "Out as in…?"

"As in we haven't really done anything exciting or special together in over a month now and I think it's time to fix that." He gave her a moment to let the idea sink in, watching her eyebrows slowly rise as her eyes drifted off into memory.

"What did you have in mind?" There was no masking the subtle trill of excitement in her voice at the prospect.

"Nothing too over the top. Just a nice, quiet evening together. No work. No phone calls. No family emergencies. Just the two of us."

"That sounds nice."

"I was hoping that you would say that." He glanced over the top of his newspaper mischievously. "I may have already taken the liberty of setting something up."

"Really." Claire rounded the table to take his paper and put it down. She took a seat on his lap to occupy all of his attention, happy that he didn't try to refuse the motion. "Does that include the surprise you've been working on?"

"Maybe," he answered coyly. "I still maintain that it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you about it."

A pair of arms lazily wrapped around his neck so that her fingers could fiddle with his hair. "And what should I be doing today to prepare for this surprise?" she asked with saccharine sweetness, fishing for clues.

"If I were to give you hints, which I'm clearly _not_," he lowered his voice suggestively, "then I would say you should spend the day being beautiful." Claire quirked a questioning brow at him. "Soak in the tub. Take a nice long nap so you're well rested," he added with an impishly insinuative smile. "Relax. And most importantly… Answer the door."

"Who should I be expecting?"

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders playfully with a roll of his eyes. Her mind busily whirled around the possibilities distracting her from the set of long fingers that splayed possessively across her belly, bringing a proud smile to his lips. At first the memory had seemed somewhat fuzzy like an alcohol induced hallucination, but as the details poured over him in the days since then his realization had come back in full force. He was almost positive that Claire was still clueless and he would have the joy of telling her about their little creation. He imagined the feeling of a tiny heart beat fluttering away beneath his hand as he quietly mused about how the evening would be perfect.

_We've been so careful… Well, except for that day in the car, but I guess Mom was right. It only takes one time. I never could have believed that this day would come._

Initially the prospect of being personally responsible for another life form, a living, breathing, human being that would be freely thinking and acting independently of them was absolutely terrifying. 'What ifs?' had spiraled through his every waking thought process for days detailing every possible scenario that could ever happen. Not to mention the horrific notion of what might occur should they screw up in some psychological or emotional aspect… or socially. _Oh, hell. I'm going to have to learn how to deal with other parents. And their children. And teachers. Is it okay if I don't want to join the PTA?_

_Parents… How the heck am I going to tell Virginia about this? Or Noah. Oh, God, Noah… _Gabriel swallowed thickly over the nerves that rose with that thought, images of her father chasing him through the streets with a loaded gun running rampant. _But if tonight works out the way I hope it will then everything will be great. Better than great. Perfect. _And then all of those colliding thoughts condensed into one singular internal mantra.

_I'm going to be a father._

"Just a little something for someone special." Claire laughed lightly when he pulled her into him, nuzzling her neck and sneaking a hand over her hip to delve into the pocket of her jeans. "I'm stealing the car for today though," he stipulated, fishing out a set of keys. "I've got an errand to run."

"Hmm. Being cooped up all day under threat of the dreaded bubble bath. How ever will I manage?"

* * *

><p>Gabriel sat quietly amidst the ticks and tocks of Gray and Sons doing his best to remain focused on his work. All of his time spent away during the last month had meant an impressive accumulation of back orders for repairs and specialty designs. But even as he pulled his magnifying lens closer to study the watch face that he was replacing, delicately moving hands back into place with a set of tweezers, he knew that his heart was no longer in the project. There was still that little thrill for being able to see how the parts would fit together in a whole, speaking to him in a sense of what they needed to function correctly, however his imagination was wandering towards something better. Something more. For his family. That thought brought a shadow of a smile to his lips.<p>

The shop door opened and closed signaling the entrance of a customer that disturbed his reverie. Gabriel removed his glasses, looking up to discern whether the person would be looking to pick up their order or place another one. A short man of rounded physic appearing as though he had just wandered away from a cubicle met his sight. However ordinary he may have seemed on the outside though Gabriel knew before speaking that he wasn't. There was something in the back of his mind that itched when he couldn't place what the difference was causing an uncontrollable draw. As with others that he had encountered before, he detected an inexplicable trait that set him apart from the average passerby.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, um, somebody called me? My name is Brian Davis."

It was the moment that he had been waiting for. An overwhelming sense that his entire life had been leading him to that very point in time swept over Gabriel's consciousness. Everything that he could have ever wanted was potentially being held in the nervous hands of the man before him. His time had finally arrived to make him, or break him. The point of no return.

"Yes, I called you," he stated calmly in spite of his own tumbling anxiety, rising to face what could have been the greatest puzzle of his life. A grand mystery to solve in the form of a person. The key to unlocking all of the universe's answers.

"My name is…" he faltered. Gabriel had been deceitful in his means of getting Davis to meet with him and if Chandra found out that he had been used as a means to an end after their last unpleasant encounter he would be angry. For a second there was a pondering over whether he could really be accused of fraud for what he was doing. If his plan was successful though and he could go back to the doctor with undeniable proof that he did indeed belong on the list, that he really was special, then all could be forgiven. His eyes flickered to the Sylar wrist watch that semi-permanently adorned his work desk, his touchstone of sorts for the girl that had brought him a guide towards its intrigue. "Sylar. Gabriel Sylar."

"You must be the student then? My wife said that there was a research project looking for people…" Davis shuffled his feet uncomfortably, twiddling his thumbs. "Dr. Suresh tried calling me before, but at the time the things he said sounded crazy." He took off his glasses to wipe away a nonexistent smudge, an action that Gabriel recognized for the distraction it was. He had used the cover himself more than a fair share of times to help mask his own uncertainties.

"I told him that I wasn't interested. I - I just wanted to be left alone. But then these strange things started to happen to me… Stuff… my things… It was like they started to move on their own." Brian glanced up at him with worry as though he expected Gabriel to declare him as insane as he felt. Perhaps if he hadn't been so readily willing to believe that there was a greater purpose for his existence Gabriel would have felt the same way. It was easy to imagine how jarring of an experience it would be to one day find out that you were fundamentally different from all the other people around you, and he could sympathize to some extent. "Do, um… Do you need to see it?"

"Yes, please," he smiled eagerly in a way that he hoped was reassuring and not quite as greedy as it felt. Gabriel gestured towards his work table where there were plenty of items for the man's disposal while quietly wondering just how large of an object he would really be able to move with the force of his mind alone.

Brian squinted his eyes for a long minute, focusing past his glasses on the coffee cup that was resting on the work table. The cup gave off a small shudder before slowly turning about and sliding inch by inch over the wooden surface seemingly of its own accord.

"That's incredible." Gabriel had known that the existence of Telekinesis was real, had felt it in his gut when reading about it or listening to Chandra passionately explain the ability. But to actually see a power such as that in action confirming everything that he had learned was something else entirely. To truly witness an agent of his coveted evolutionary processes at work only feet away from him… Stating the obvious hadn't helped to diminish the disbelief in his voice.

"Can you make it go away?"

"Why would you want to do that?" he asked incredulously, not understanding that train of thought at all.

"I don't know what this is," Brian frowned insistently. "Or who I might hurt. I - I don't want it." Long creases etched their way across the length of his worried forehead.

What little sympathy Gabriel might have been able to feel for Davis instantly evaporated in a sharp snap of intense jealousy. The man had been given a gift that set him apart from the common masses compliments of nature. He was different, a part of the next step in human evolution, important, _special, _all of those things that Gabriel wished he could be. And he wanted nothing more than to throw all of it away in favor of being ordinary, unnoticed.

There were so many parallels that Gabriel could draw between them. They were both painfully average men all too easily overlooked in their understated lifestyles with no more purpose in life than a pitiful career that left them with just enough monetary value to keep moving along day by day. With every trait from their mutual social awkwardness to their shared timid demeanors and interchangeable mannerisms he imagined that they could swap lives all together and there would be no one to notice the difference. Of course Brian had his wife and Gabriel was lucky to have Claire, but would anyone else give a damn if one or both of them disappeared from the face of the Earth?

And yet the situation remained the same. For all of their similarities Davis continued to hold the world in the palm of his hand to be left by the wayside while Gabriel could only look on helplessly. Nature could be a cruel bitch sometimes with a sadistic sense of humor. The ultimate punch line had yet to be spoken though because watching Brian's ability at work was far different than seeing Claire's skin endlessly stitch itself back together.

Over the weeks of paper cuts and stubbed toes he had grown more or less desensitized to the power of regeneration. On occasion he even wondered if she had intentionally dropped the spoon into the pot of boiling water for retrieval or purposefully sliced off the tip of her finger while dicing tomatoes as a means of jading him to the idea. He couldn't escape the theory that breaking the bones of her hand by getting it caught in the door had been some sort of test, but he had endured triumphantly. And there had been so many sets of ill fated sheets that they had had to replace…

"You're broken." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them; before he could even logically substantiate the statement. But the cogs of his mechanical mind had begun to turn over observations long before they became a conscious reality. One sweeping look over Davis's chalky pallor, lack of any definable muscle tone and the over production of sweat in the palms of his hands, the consistently heightened heart rate made evident by the pulsing arteries in his neck and the uncoordinated focus… Brian had stepped forward to approach him when he had asked for help in a way that suggested innate neediness of personality, even fearfulness. He was looking to Gabriel to be an authoritative figure, someone that could dictate what needed to be done and solve his problems for him. All of those anxieties took on a completely different meaning.

Reaching out with his steadily growing awareness, treating the man before him as though he were just another time piece or machine, parts began to fall into place.

Following the illogical activity occurring within the sympathetic nervous system, Gabriel retraced the pathways of nerve impulses into the brainstem, connecting into the hypothalamus and cerebellum, through the nuclei of the basolateral complex where the sensory information was being interpreted by the amygdala. From there he could find that the prior connections were unusually indistinct due to a higher concentration of gray matter within the central nucleus. In a slight twist though the connections with the parietal cortex and prefrontal cortex were heightened. Fear and anxiety were being processed allowing for the action potential that caused _C4H9NO2_... The gated ion channels of the cells' plasma membranes were faulty allowing the neurotransmitter gamma-Aminobutyric acid to release into the synapse where it bound itself to receptors causing the excitability of his nerves.

Gabriel pulled back from his study with a blink.

_My God… He must feel like he's constantly on the verge of having a panic attack._

"What?"

"Suresh was right." He handed Brian his copy of _Activating Evolution_ and took a few steps to clear his mind of the great revelation that had just happened. "It's so clear now. How it all works. Pieces fitting together. It _is_ in the brain."

"So you can help?"

Images of a lioness dashing across the open plain in pursuit of a fleeing gazelle flashed through his mind. The lithe, agile body with its retractable claws and angled incisors capable of crushing force all designed with that specific action in mind. Strength and cunning meant to cull the weak from a herd, keeping the greater population healthy and under control. Maintaining the balance of nature. _They don't want to. They have to._

He was weak and Gabriel knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Davis was unworthy of his power. He didn't deserve to have an ability that he would only waste when Gabriel could use it, wield it with purpose. If only he could get a closer look at the components…

"Don't worry Brian," he said as his fingers curled around a quartz formation that he kept for display. "I can fix it." Gabriel turned on the man whose back was to him, caught unaware as he examined the book that he had been handed only seconds ago. Quickly analyzing the shape of his head he could pinpoint where the sutures of the skull fused the neurocranium bones together and calculate the weakest area above the brain. "It's an evolutionary imperative!"

Raising the quartz above to swing in a downward arch, Gabriel cracked the rock over Brian's head and watched the man crumple to the floor. The carefully triangulated strike had instantly killed him. He wouldn't have even felt the pain.

He pulled his glasses back on, eager to uncover his precious mysteries while the tissue would still be fresh. Ignoring the red-black blood that was rapidly pooling beneath the body he knelt down take in the extent of the damage, as delicately as possible using the quartz again to create a series of spidering concussions that would allow him to pull away the bone and expose the unharmed brain matter.

Davis had visually focused on the cup to telekinetically move it. The image of the object had passed through the iris, past the cornea and sclera, the choroid, and ciliary body along nerve fibers that transmitted the information where it could be interpreted in the cortex and the occipital lobe, favoring the left side. Gingerly sliding his hand into the tight space of the skull Gabriel extracted Brian's brain for inspection.

But no… As his fingers tenderly explored the cognitive tissues he could sense that his initial conclusion had been wrong. He hadn't been looking directly at the coffee cup itself. He had been focusing on the space immediately around the object. Gabriel turned the lump of bloody gray muscle over in his hands to examine the parietal lobe.

_Spatial awareness. Yes, that's it. Now where's the part that doesn't belong…_

Surface layers of twisting fissures did little to satisfy his intrigue. _For a male it would be… on the… right hemisphere… So helpful for the left handed. _There was a sickly wet squishing sound as his fingers sank deeper into the organ, working the pieces apart until an extraordinary space of intricately interwoven neuron clusters revealed themselves. Understanding instantly washed over him in a soothing wave once he could see exactly how the process had functioned as a part of the whole.

Endorphins were flooding his system as though he had just experienced the greatest physical work out of his life. While his eyes were rolling back with the elation his subconscious was formulating how to replicate the Telekinetic ability and integrating the appropriate changes into his own DNA for reproduction. It was as relieving as sex. Really great sex.

The change was pitifully slow at first and he didn't immediately recognize the sensation for what it was, but he could feel something happening within. His mind was expanding, billowing outward in a steady growth not unlike what he had known when working through Suresh's testing phases. Once he had finished riding out his high Gabriel returned to reality.

And found himself knee deep in gore.

_Oh, God. What have I done?_

All of the jealousy and anger and ambitious compulsion vaporized with one look for the body that had housed Brian Davis. He was once again just a man, so much like himself. _That could have been me._

Gabriel's pants were completely soaked in blood that was congealing on the floorboards as it cooled, sticking to him, refusing to let go when he made to stand. It had seeped through his socks and coated the insides of his shoes. Grotesque swaths of crimson were smeared all along his chest and stomach, up his arms, and his hands… His hands were slick with the oxidizing fluid that caked in his nail beds defining every crease and curve of a fingerprint.

Panic.

Life was a blurred haze of adrenaline fueled desperation as he hurdled himself into the back room ransacking the storage space for the long rolls of plastic bubble wrap that he kept on hand for long distance shipping. Running back to the scene of the crime he threw down a long sheet of the plastic and set about wrapping the body in the translucent material, picking up scattered fragments of bone as he went.

* * *

><p>Claire rolled her head back to rest on the edge of the tub with an effortless sigh. Surrounded by delicately popping bubbles and the fizzing of bath salts it was all too easy to allow her eyes to close and her mind to drift. She inhaled a deep breath of the vanilla that floated in the air from her scented candles wondering what all Gabriel could be plotting. He had been quite the sneak lately which meant it was something big. All of the mysterious twenty-minute-long 'wrong number' phone calls, the late working hours, the days when he would be inexplicably missing from the shop when she came by to bring him lunch, and the bumbling excuses or half baked misdirections…<p>

_Either he's trying to book us a two week vacation at some exotic resort or… Or he's cheating on me… _

She shook her head to clear away dark thoughts not wanting at all to entertain that train of logic. Claire couldn't make herself believe that Gabriel was the kind of the man to wander too far from home, with his body or his eyes for that matter. Only the week prior had she mentioned something about the female tenant down the hall being attractive and he had spluttered his morning coffee everywhere. Besides, with her father and the Haitian constantly on the look out for anything that could be unusual they surely would have mentioned something to her should another woman have been involved. _Or maybe… _A thought struck her with blunt force. _A surprise, secret plans, wanting me to dress up for a night out. Oh, my God, he's going to propose again._

There should have been a stab of panic to accompany the realization but it was curiously absent. Suresh had been successfully drawn away from his focus on Gabriel, leading him instead to her which her father was already contending with. With 'Patient Zero' safely undiscovered and Gabriel blissfully unaware of his ability they should have been in the clear. Sylar would never rise and the future was saved. Claire was free to -

A knock sounded at the door. Claire hurried out of the tub and into a fuzzy bath robe to answer as she had been instructed. Water dripped down her legs to pool on the floor as she cracked the door open to reveal nothing. Whomever had done the knocking vacated before she could get there, but they had left a gift behind for her to find. She bent over to retrieve the glass vase of flowers, her eyes widening considerably at the impressive array beauty. Calla lilies, stephanotis, Vendela roses, and soft white apple blossoms all spilled over the sides of the arrangement intertwined with spiraling vines of ivy. Tucked inside she found a card written out in a tidy angled scrawl: _To the best of all that is dark and bright, I always thought my angel looked beautiful in white. _

Warmth flushed over her body in a blush for no one to see. _Maybe this time I can say yes._

* * *

><p>Gabriel exerted the full force of his musculature to pry open the man hole cover that served as a sewer entrance for the alley way directly behind the watch shop. Breathing heavily he poked his head inside briefly to see a mob of scurrying city rats fleeing from the light. Satisfied with the temporary hide away, he pulled back, glancing in all directions for potential witnesses and finished dragging the plastic wrapped body of his victim to the dumping site. There was a morbid cracking of bone that splintered on impact with the clang of the rusted steel ladder and then the concrete below, followed by a barely audible <em>splash<em>. The rats would return and feast on Davis's cold flesh effectively destroying the body. Within a few days even the bones would be dragged away and scattered throughout the tunnel system.

Rushing back into the store, Gabriel hurled himself into the bathroom and clutched at the back of the toilet for a life line while he emptied the contents of his stomach with violent force. _That could have been me, _he whimpered to himself again. "What have I done? Oh," heave, "God." He didn't even register the tears of grief and pain that ran down the sides of his face as he vomited away his guilt like some poisonous toxin that refused to leave his gut. "What did I do?"

He stumbled back into the front section of the shop, groping at his stomach when he saw that he hadn't even locked the door or flipped the 'closed' sign over. Anyone could have walked in and seen what he had done. Briefly he paused to think that it might have been better that way. Instead his eyes turned to the stained floorboards of his crime scene.

_The blood… Christ, there's so much of it…_

Gabriel stopped to throw up again before grabbing a mop bucket and all of the cleansers that he could find. Stooping over the chilled puddle of browning blood, he sloshed soapy water over the area and sopped it up one careful rag sweep at a time, releasing orange-like tendrils of color into the bucket that quickly churned about into a rabid crimson. After nearly an hour and a half of feverish scrubbing the greater whole of Brian's pool had been lifted but Gabriel was forced to accept that no manner of intent or chemicals would lift the stains completely free of the wood.

Between the shakes and shivers of the shock leaving his body he fought off the urge to break down and give in, focusing instead on finding the logical solution to his problem. His mind turned over any possible remedy for the situation before slowly dawning on the circumstance that had lead there in the first place. Reaching outward with that same sense of awareness that he had felt earlier Gabriel found that he no longer had to see the objects around to detect their space. It was as though the fabric of reality had thickened around him like a semi-gelatinous atmosphere. Everything had a space, and everything in that space could be manipulated. _Is this how Brian felt?_

Straining his hand to hold steady he held it above the red tinted floorboards, feeling out that sense of matter. A sharp stab of pain pounded through his eyeballs like nails in his attempt to exercise the newly created part of him that had never been used before. _The brain is like any other muscle. It has to be exercised to get stronger. Use it or lose it._

Concentrating intently, not on the molecules of blood themselves, but on the matter of space that they occupied, he willed the fluid to lift itself away from the wood. The throb of pain increased exponentially with the effort. He managed to unclench his eyes long enough to glance down. A thin cloud of brownish droplets hung suspended in the air just below his hand. Gabriel reached quickly for his bucket to collect the liquid but found that they splashed back onto the floor with the drop in continuous focus. It took him another hour of exhausting trial and hour, but he managed to gain control over the new ability enough to complete his task.

_They can swab for DNA in the pipes, _he thought to himself as he looked from his bucket of collected blood to the sink in the modest bathroom wondering how he would be able to dispose of the evidentiary substance. And then his gaze drifted to the toilet. Maybe it wasn't the best idea that he ever had but then again who in the hell would think to look there? He carefully poured the bloody water into the bowl and flushed what remained of Brian Davis down the drain. After some more thought he decided to scrub the item down with a healthy dose of bleach to remove any residual traces before flushing again several times.

Where his clothes weren't sticking to him the fabric was stiffening and itched and scraped against his skin. He couldn't exactly go home to Claire that way. He couldn't even leave the shop looking that way without arising suspicion or curiosity that he had gotten into some kind of terrible accident. Gabriel pressed his forehead to the mirror trying to think about how to get out of his next catastrophe. Flipping open his phone and searching through the sparse contacts he saw his mother's name and another idea occurred to him.

"Hello, Mrs. Wilson? This is Gabriel… Gray. Yes ma'am, Virginia's son. I'm here at Gray and Sons and I, um, seem to have had a rather embarrassing accident with my coffee." The Wilson's owned a small clothing boutique just down the street from the watch shop. Over the years Virginia had become friends with the Mrs., who happened to be nearly as flaky as she was. "Yes, ma'am. I'm kind of in need of a shirt and some pants. Uh, style doesn't really matter. Just something that I can get home in. Is there any chance that I can get delivered? Great. Yes, ma'am, you accept Visa, right?"

* * *

><p>It shouldn't have surprised her when there was another knock on the door that afternoon. Claire was in the middle of grooming her nails to a highly polished shine when the sound startled her. She hobbled over the entrance, careful to keep her toes, parted by cotton balls, off of the floor lest the paint get smudged. Once again when she answered there was no one around to see, but a decoratively wrapped Gray and Sons gift box waited by the threshold.<p>

Closing the door behind her, she pulled apart the lengths of white bowed ribbon and enthusiastically shredded into the paper. Inside she found a black velvet box. Timidly urging the silky container open a crack her attention was caught by gleaming silver. Claire pulled out a shining pendant crafted from a glamorous looking watch face on a delicate chain of linked metallic rings. On the back was an inscription etched into the silver: _My life started when I first saw you. _Turning the piece back over she could see that the time had been set to_ 3:51:10 P.M. _urging a bubbly smile onto her lips_._

**To be continued...**

* * *

><p><strong>Free kudos to anybody that spotted the quirk with Claire's new necklace.<strong>_  
><em>


	24. Falling: Part II

**There's some M rated material in this chapter of an explicit nature. It's been marked by XXX's so feel free to skip around that section. You won't be missing anything important to the plot.**

**Falling: Part II**

* * *

><p><em>April 18, 2006<em>

Gabriel had watched from the shadows for Mrs. Wilson to stop by with his bag of clothes. She had knocked once to let him know that she had arrived and then left the package by the door for him as he had asked. As soon as she was out of sight he had darted out to grab the order and rushed back to the bathroom with them.

He stripped out of the ruined sweater and trousers that he had worn that day and dumped them into an old steel trashcan which he propped up next to an open window. Setting a small fan up to blow in the window's direction he struck a match and flipped it into the can. Since he didn't use an accelerant on them it had taken a few tries to get the fire started but eventually the clothes burned up into a dark gray smoke that billowed out of the window to dissipate in the open air.

Gabriel filled up his mop bucket with some fresh water and set about cleaning himself up as much as possible. Faded streaks of blood were washed from his arms and stomach, around his neck and face, and he had more or less dunked his entire head into the bucket to rinse out his hair. _They're still not clean enough. They'll never be clean again. _He was in the middle of viciously scrubbing his hands free of the blood that only continued to exist in his own mind for what must have been a dozen times when the high pitched trill of his phone ringing snapped him out of the trance. Gabriel jumped, nearly dumping the water over the floor at the sudden disturbance. After he had returned to his skin and convinced his poor fatigued heart that it was indeed _not_ having an attack he answered.

"Hello, Mr. Gray. Your order is ready now, Sir. Will you be coming by to pick it up today?"

"Yeah," he croaked out. "Yeah, I'll be there in an hour or so."

Everything about returning to the world from what he had just been through felt incredibly surreal. Gabriel had forgotten about anything that might have been going on outside of his shop or the people that would be moving by. The Earth really should have had the courtesy to stop spinning.

_Just act natural. Pretend like nothing happened and no one will suspect you._

* * *

><p>That Haitian turned away from the monitor that was feeding video coverage from inside of Gray and Sons to fetch his cell phone. He punched in the first speed dial and patiently waited for an answer. After the third ring Angela Petrelli picked up the line.<p>

"It's done then?" She paused for the silent reply. "Good. Be sure to visit Mrs. Davis. Wipe her memory of any knowledge having to do with Gabriel Gray or Chandra Suresh's project. When she discovers that her husband has gone missing we can't have the last known address of his whereabouts reported."

The line promptly disconnected. He spared a glance back at the screen to see Gabriel grabbing his coat and leaving the shop in a hurry before climbing into the driver's seat of the Primatech van and rolling out of the alley.

* * *

><p>Claire had just put the finishing touches on her makeup and hair when stepped back from the mirror to take a long scrutinizing look at herself. Long ringlets of blonde curls were left to graciously fall from the elegant pile pinned up on top of her head. Since Gabriel had specifically stated that he enjoyed seeing her in white she had pulled on a silky cream colored blouse that fell away from her shoulders to gather around her chest and a long off-white leather skirt that stopped just over booted heels. Except maybe for the subtle increase of weight around her midsection that she beginning to feel self conscious about she was quite confident that he would find her appearance appealing. Nervous butterflies were turning circles about her stomach when another knock came at the door. She excitedly jumped to answer, toying with the new chain that hung from her neck, and wondering what else he could possibly have in store for his surprises.<p>

Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw Gabriel standing there with anxiously fidgeting hands. He peeked up at her from beneath a lock of dark hair that had fallen over an eye, the rest of it being haphazardly swept back by fingers. His glasses had been left behind as well as his typical fashion, wearing a simple black collared shirt over black jeans. He had opened his mouth to say something but hadn't gotten the chance.

She had been building anticipation all day and found herself unable to wait a second longer. Practically jumping into his arms Claire pulled him inside and crashed her mouth onto his. They stumbled about in a daze, roughly backing against a wall and then falling over a chair onto the table. She wanted to explain exactly how much she had appreciated his gifts but couldn't force herself to stop kissing him long enough to get the words across so instead she attempted to spell it out with every wet smack of their skin, happily settling for a muffled, "I love you."

A barely detectable tremble ached in his shoulders and when she pulled back to see why she was met with a pair of clouded brown eyes. "Gabriel, what's wrong?"

He should have known that he would be able to hide from her. Claire stared right through the brave face that he had slapped on for the rest of the world. "I, um… I - I had a really bad day." It wasn't a lie. He just failed to include all the implications of the truth. _I murdered a man in cold blood, cut him into pieces, and dumped the body for rats to eat. _His throat tightened and he felt like he could wretch bile at the memory of Brian's blood coating his hands.

"Oh, Gabriel," she tugged him into her when he let slip a pitiful whimper. "What happened to you?" That question only caused his façade to buckle faster. She wouldn't assume that it could be something that _he_ had done, only what could have happened to him. Claire looked down at him the same way he had looked at her the first time he realized that something truly terrible had happened to her.

"Please, Claire. Please…" He wasn't even sure what exactly it was that he was begging her for. Punishment? Did he need her to tell him what a terrible man he was for what he had done? That he didn't deserve her or the life they were building together? Or was it absolution that he was seeking? Perhaps all he really needed her to do was hold him and tell him that everything would be alright because that was the path that she chose for them.

Claire looped her arms around his waist to let him break apart in her embrace until his knees gave out and he was tugging her to the floor with him. "Please, Claire." She clutched his head to her breast, rubbing soothing circles into his back with one hand, smoothing his hair from his eyes with the other. "Please…" he continued to whimper, heaving against her smaller frame.

"Shh. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." Her lips found the crown of his head to leave a doting kiss there. And then his forehead. And then, tilting his jaw in a soft hand she found his mouth. The look in his eyes could have belonged to a wild animal that had been grievously wounded, a whirlwind of revolving emotional mayhem, but he was more startled to find that his insecurities weren't being reflected back on him. She didn't see his failures or his flaws when she looked back at him. In her gaze there was only love and compassion. Claire was in the middle of watching him fall to pieces all around her and she still wanted him.

**xxx**

"Please," he whispered into their kiss, timidly ghosting his lips over hers. "Please." Claire silently nodded her acceptance to what was happening between. Quiet desperation overtook his actions. Her fingers threaded through his hair as they bent over backwards on the floor, mouths frantically colliding at a fevered pitch. He ripped her blouse out from the hem of her skirt, pulling the buttons apart as she shadowed the action until their skin could make open contact.

Her skirt was too tight, the leather binding so that he couldn't pry her legs apart fast enough. Strong hands slid up her legs and roamed over the expanse of her thighs, shoving the fabric upward around her waist so that he could hook this thumbs into the sides of her panties and yank them away to be flung carelessly over his shoulder. His fingers thrust into her with abandon, willing her to be ready until her breathing was hitching at regular intervals. In the rising frustration of panic, Claire threw her legs around him, her booted heels digging harshly into his back as he fumbled with the fastenings of his pants to free himself. There wasn't a trace of hesitation before he popped inside of her with one swift stroke followed by a heavy sigh of relief.

Claire's body instantly reacted to the invasion as it always did, her muscles clenching painfully tight as they struggled to heal the damage and snap back into place, working to reject the foreign body and push him back out. His head dropped into the crook of her neck, panting wildly while he stilled his motions without being able to deny the full body shiver that rippled down his spine. The simple comfort in touch seemed to soothe all of his anxieties for the moment so that they were content to just be.

"I love you," he rasped in response to the butterfly kisses that she trailed down his cheek and jaw. Careful to keep the full extent of his weight from baring down on her Gabriel rolled over, pulling her with him so that she rested neatly on top allowing him to admire the disheveled beauty of the body adorning him. A faint, shy smile threatened to creep out when he was able to palm her stomach in wonder. She stifled a giggle when his fingers drew a line down from her navel over the small bump that was already beginning to emerge from behind the taut flesh.

The muscle movement from her laugh clenched her body around him again earning a hiss of breath from between his teeth that reminded them of what exactly it was they were doing. His hands drifted back down to her hips, gripping her to set a standard for movement. Claire rolled her head back at first, amicably following his pace but soon enough she was seizing his wrists and rolling forward to pin them above his head. She liked being in control and a small, disturbed part him enjoyed the domination as well.

Gabriel's eyes followed every tense line and contraction of muscle in her body through the curtain of waving blonde hair that had fallen over her face with the rolling of her hips and arching of her back. Claire had closed her eyes to focus on the sensations, slowly gaining momentum with her untiring thighs, but they snapped open instantly when he rocked forward to adjust angles, tugging her back down with him in an effort to slow her progress. Whether she appreciated the interruption or not didn't matter. He just had to keep from crossing the finish line before she started the race.

**xxx**

* * *

><p>"René, why is the monitor off?" Noah asked his partner irritably when he climbed into the Primatech van. He had had a very long and trying afternoon with Eden, pushing her along in her agreement to get Claire and the Petrellis' names off of Suresh's list, and then helping to set her up with her new apartment and identity so that she could further keep an eye on the doctor. The young con-artist had left him in no mood to deal with laziness or shenanigans. Before the Haitian could stop him Noah flipped on the screen.<p>

"What the?"

Gabriel appeared to be hunched over something on the couch with his back to the camera. He straightened back out into an awkward sitting position on his knees bringing someone with him… Noah blinked at the apartment video several times, his frazzled brain trying to understand what it was that he was seeing. Her head flopped back onto his shoulder and he realized that it was Claire that Gabriel was holding. His arms wrapped around her, almost seeming to rock back and forth. Claire clenched her eyes shut tight and her mouth opened in a silent scream and _oh my God…_

René reached out from the driver's seat where he had been waiting out the exchange and flicked off the screen again giving Noah a reproachful glare in the process. He pulled off his horn-rimmed glasses, still blinking in surprise, and polished the lenses while he sat numbly for several minutes working through what had just happened. And then the renowned Company man came back with a vengeance.

Noah returned his specs to their rightful position, grabbed his gun, checked that it was loaded and made to bolt out the door. The Haitian skittered after him, catching the man by the arm just as he was approaching the back entrance to the apartment building. "I am not just going to stand by while that man is defiling my daughter!" he shouted, whirling around on his partner.

"She is not _your _Claire," René tried to explain in his characteristically calm tone of voice. "That Claire Bennet is _not_ the one you know. She is a grown woman that has witnessed her own world fall apart. And now, she is doing what she has to in order to keep that from happening again."

Bennet pretended to listen to his point but as soon as he saw opportunity, made to reacquire his prior task with gun in hand. It was only under threat of the Haitian using his power to knock him out that Noah feigned reason and backed down. Back in the van he shot his counterpart a venomous glance before yanking out the tape of activity in Gray and Sons for that afternoon and popped it in to watch.

If his blood wasn't simmering in his veins already it came to a rolling boil as he caught the recap of Brian Davis crumpling to the floor. His eyes widened and narrowed at the same time when Gabriel poked around for the ability, later using it to pull the blood straight from the floorboards after dragging the contained body out of view. Sylar had made his first kill which meant total mission failure and ensuing termination. And now the very same monster was alone with Claire doing unspeakable things to her.

_René is right. She's not my Claire. And if I have anything to do about it she never will be. It's time to call in the big guns._

Noah took out his phone and scanned over the contact list before entering a number. "Get me Elle Bishop please."

* * *

><p>Gabriel panted against the skin of her neck. A slow smile crept over his lips after having been allowed to empty all of his trepidations into the girl that he held. His arms were like iron bands around her boneless body, clutching her tightly to him while a hand lazily drifted to capture her jaw. "I love hearing you scream," he whispered, placing a kiss between her shoulder blades. Claire's response amounted to an unintelligible <em>Uh huh<em>.

Fingers trailed down from her stomach and over her hip to explore between her legs causing a fearsome hiss of breath. She lolled her hazy eyes around to meet his expectation for attention. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

He helped her to straighten out her clothes and did the same for himself before taking her by the hand and leading them up to the maintenance hatch that opened onto the roof. At first all she could see was the dull ambience of city lights shining around them, but then Gabriel stepped back to throw a switch. The little section of rooftop that he kept as his solitary thinking spot blazed to life with hundreds of twinkling lights that had been strung about bringing into view a covered table with a chilling bottle of champagne and glasses already waiting for them.

"Surprise."

Claire's eyes ignited with bright wonder. "Gabriel, this is amazing."

"There's a few things that we need to talk about," he started when they took their seats. He chewed on his bottom lip while he poured out some of the champagne debating on where to start. _Claire, sweet-heart, we're going to have a baby, or, Claire, baby, I'm a cold blooded murderer. _Gabriel could feel the weight of his last box bound surprise still resting in the pocket of his jeans and sighed. _Full disclosure. She deserves the truth._

"Claire, um," she made it so hard to think through what he needed to say when she smiled up at him with openly trusting eyes. "There's, um… I've been… Uh, Claire," he drained his glass nervously. "There's something that I've been keeping from you."

The smile faded from her features to be replaced by fretful lines of worry. "I don't really know how to explain it so I'll just show you." Gabriel held out his hand to his empty glass and gave it a push with his mind. She watched the object slowly scoot inch by inch in her direction until it toppled off the table and clinked loudly onto the floor. He observed the tight swallow through her constricting throat and the horrified widening of her eyes.

"Claire, say something. Anything, please."

Her heart beat jumped in pace to that of a marathon runner and hammered away in the arteries of her neck. Her hands visibly shook as they gripped the table for support. "Claire?"

"How long have you been able to do that?" she grit out between clenched teeth.

Gabriel couldn't read whether it was stark panic or blind rage that was rolling off of her, perhaps a combination of both. Out of all the scenarios he had plotted out he had never imagined that particular reaction taking place. He had thought out all the ways that she could be happy to find that he was special like her, or sympathetic and willing to help him learn about their world, even some rather explicit ideas about all of the things that he might get her to agree to try in bedroom with abilities. But such a powerfully negative reaction had never crossed his mind.

"Claire, I -"

"Don't," she snarled at him with a tear rolling down her cheek. "You killed him didn't you?"

He was at a loss for words. _How did she know? _"Claire, please, listen -"

"Stay away from me!" Gabriel stood from his chair to reach for her and she very nearly tumbled out of hers scrambling to gain distance from him. Claire backed her way across the roof to the very edge.

"Claire, I didn't mean to. I didn't want to hurt him, I swear." _I didn't want to. I had to. "_Please, it'll never happen again. I'll never hurt anybody ever again, I swear, please." Gabriel took another pleading step in her direction and she leaned back over the wall still trying to get away from him.

"Claire, get away from the wall. You'll fall."

"Don't," she hissed at him again. "You don't get to talk to me like that. You don't get to pretend like you give a damn anymore, Sylar."

_Sylar…? _"Please, just come away from the wall before you hurt yourself or the -" Gabriel lurched forward to keep her from inadvertently harming the baby with her hysterics and raised a hand to reach for her, but at the sight of his wrist flicking in her direction she jumped, falling backwards over the edge of the roof in what felt like slow motion to him. He rushed to the wall, straining every fiber of his new power to catch her but ultimately failed to have the level of control needed for an object the size of a person. He was forced to helplessly watch in terror as Claire plummeted to the street below and hit the concrete with a thud that dropped him to his knees. Someone screaming in the distance echoed back to him when he was wrenching the maintenance hatch back open and hurdling down the stairs faster than physics should have permitted his body to move.

Claire twisted her neck back into place with a harsh cracking of bone and set her splintered legs to heal. She was up and running again before anyone had time to come check on the body. She pushed her legs to keep pounding away at the concrete, to keep moving, keep running from shadow figures that only existed in her own mind long after Gabriel's apartment building had been lost from sight. She exhausted her limits until she was running just to stay upright. There should have been sharp lances of pain arching through her, stitches in her side for breath but she couldn't feel any of it. The fog rolling over her vision and the tell tale trickle of something warm and wet down her leg should have been a sign to stop, but she was gruesomely used to the feel of blood so much that she barely noticed and the tears stinging her eyes explained the rest. It wasn't until she smacked into the corner of a small loan office for support that she began to realize something was terribly wrong with her body.

Gabriel launched himself out of the door to his apartment building, scrambling over the walk way where she must have landed to find her. A disturbing amount of her blood puddled in the street but there was no body. _She's alive, _he breathed internally with a minute amount of relief. He didn't have time to think anything else though before a white van peeled around the corner and screeched past him baring the logo for Primatech Paper Co. Everything in his intuition screamed at him to follow the van, that they would know where she was and what was happening so without another thought he broke into a dead sprint in the same direction.

Dark hands hefted her limp body into comforting arms and toted Claire off to the only place that could help her.

**To be continued...**


	25. Revelations: Part I

**Sorry about the long wait for update. My muse seems to have developed a serious case A.D.D. Anyways, thanks to everybody that left reviews. You're all awesome! ****These chapters I may or may not go back for editing depending on what level of detail you guys like because they felt a little rushed to me. Feel free to leave me some feedback about what you think.**

* * *

><p><strong>Revelations: Part I<strong>_  
><em>

_April 26, 2006_

"Surprise," he smiled.

"Gabriel, this is amazing." He watched her eyes widen with awe as she took in the rooftop dreamscape that he had created for them. Finding the case of twinkling Christmas lights on clearance had been the easy part. Untangling them all and then winding dozens of the strands about the small area in the wee morning hours before she had woken however, was another complication entirely of itself. And then there had been the ludicrous tipping of the building's maintenance man to help him set out the champagne so that it was cold without the ice being all melted by the time they got there. At least the arrangements for the flowers and their delivery had already been made a week prior; and the necklace, he gave himself an internal pat on the back for that one. The piece wasn't any sort of finely tuned time keeping machine as he was used to generally dealing with but he still considered it to be one of his finest works having spent countless hours hunched over a work table using all manner of tools available to manipulate the delicate silver until it was just right. There was also the matter of important news to share with her as well as the small fortune being contained in his pocket. Two weeks of planning and deliberating over every minute detail would finally come to fruition.

"There's a few things that we need to talk about," he started, taking her by the hand and leading her to their seats. She giggled when the champagne cork popped allowing a froth of bubbles to fizz over the side of the bottle. Gabriel took his time filling their glasses, mulling over the best approach for what had to be said. With a heavy sigh he began to explain. "Claire, there's something that I've been keeping from you."

The joyous smile slowly faded from her mouth to be replaced by a fretful little crinkle of worry between her eyebrows. Claire kept her sharp eyes trained on him with keen focus as she lifted the glass to her lips for a sip only to be surprised when he extended a hand to stop the motion. She relinquished the glass to him easily enough with a questioning look.

"I'm sorry. You can't actually have any, Claire." He paused for a dramatic effect before letting slip a mischievous smile. "It wouldn't be good for the baby."

Claire's mouth was left hanging slightly ajar as her eyes slowly widened, continuing to grow larger in surprise until he was seriously concerned they might fall out. "Baby?" she managed to whisper incredulously after a long minute of processing the information. "I'm…?" Gabriel nodded in the affirmative.

"I wanted to wait to tell you until…" He withdrew the black velvet box from his pocket and slid it over the table to her. Claire glanced back and forth between him and the box, took a deep steadying breath and lifted it into her trembling fingers. A tear fell down the slope of her cheek when she cracked the case open to take in the slim silver band hidden within, adorned with a modest but brightly faceted star cut diamond. Every last penny he had left from the Petrelli pocket watch had gone into the ring.

"Claire… All of the secrets and the misunderstandings, all the idiotic arguments and the parents… I don't care about any of it. I love you and nothing else matters. And now we're going to have a baby. Together. I'm not just asking because of that either," he swallowed thickly, struggling to keep his nerve, "but I want us to be a family. A real one." _What I never had. _"Marry me, Claire. Please?" he added as an afterthought to the command.

Her hand brushed over her stomach protectively as she listened to his proposal. Gabriel couldn't help but become more nervous with every second that ticked by without an answer. His heart was hammering away at his chest and his palms broke out with sweat reeling over another potential rejection when Claire nodded timidly, slowly creeping a smile out that lit into a grin more brilliant than all of the lights surrounding them. "Yes."

"Yes?" He didn't dare to hope that he had heard her correctly.

"Yes, I'll marry you," she clarified excitedly. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Gabriel didn't have time to relish the moment before Claire leapt out of her chair and onto his lap sending them toppling over with the force of impact. "We're having a baby!"

That was the way it should have been. All breathless kisses and giggles of delirious happiness. And that's where it should have ended but it never did.

"Claire, there's one more thing I need to show you." Not that he wanted to. He had to. It was an imperative that she know every aspect of him; the good and the bad and be able to accept all parts as an equal whole. Otherwise it could never be real.

Gabriel rolled himself to a sitting position. Cautiously glancing between Claire and one of the glasses left on the table he slowly extended his hand. Reaching outward into space he curled a set of invisible fingers around the base of the glass and beckoned it towards him. She watched with wide eyed surprise as the glass twitched in place for a second before jumping off the end of the table to shatter on the rooftop only a foot away. "Still needs some work," he grumbled to himself.

"Gabriel…" His attention snapped back to the girl at his side. "You're… _special_." Claire was staring at the hand that he still held aloft with awe. "You're like me. Gabriel, you're just like me."

"Special." _Somebody. Something more than just a watchmaker. _She nodded, beaming her smile that was only meant for him. "Now we can be special together with our family. _Forever_."

Sensations of heat flushed across his face and down his neck, throughout his body until it tingled in the tips of his fingers and toes. Gabriel could feel his pulse picking up speed allowing blood to flow more quickly into his tensing muscles, saturating his system with adrenaline. His eyes automatically tracked the fluctuations in Claire's facial expressions, her physical reaction to his presence, all the subtle twitches of nerves and frantic darting of her eyes, compiling the data for near instantaneous analysis. Every detail from her rigid pose to the droplet of sweat pushing its way through the skin of her brow line told him that she knew what was about to happen and that he could calculate the probabilities of her next movement.

"I just need to see how it works. I just need to… understand." He couldn't be sure exactly when it happened. When his train of thought derailed from the giddiness of the moment, of being able to be completely himself with her, for her, and the acceptance that came. Gabriel sensed that somewhere in the dark recesses of his brain the information had been forming for a while before suddenly presenting itself the way it had with Davis. The thought that it had always been there even occurred to him briefly.

He wanted to find reason in the compulsion; to give it a name, to create a tangible force out of the drive that would give him something to deny. It was as if there a hole in his being burning with the intensity of white hot flame just beneath the skin that could only be quenched by filling the void - making himself more complete. It was as if he were on the verge of death from prolonged starvation and the cure to all of his maladies were being dangled just out of reach. Gabriel was… He felt… _Hungry_.

The need to fight his dark urges was there, coiling in the pit of his stomach like venom and straining against the pull of muscle and bone, binding him in the constriction of his own body so that his movements were unnaturally forced. But he was already past the point of no return. Gabriel was screaming bloody murder on the inside, pounding clenched fists against an invisible wall, and for all his efforts to combat the barrier his own body was spiraling out of his control. He was being swallowed by an instinct more futile to resist than the need to breathe.

"_Run_," he managed to choke out from between teeth gritted so tightly that traces of blood leaked from the gum line. Gabriel watched Claire swivel around on her hip so that she could spring her to feet with fluid ease that would never come to a body without preternatural protection against structural strain. She wouldn't have even felt the pain when he knew that the tendon in the right calf tore slightly before instantly sewing itself back to perfection.

Claire rushed to the maintenance door that would allow her exit from the monster and before he could even think about the action his hand reacted, extending outward into the space that she occupied, twining invisible fingers around her body and jerking her violently backward so that she landed with a harsh thud on her backside. She scrambled backward, giving him a wide berth upon noting that he was subconsciously shadowing her every movement in anticipation.

"I just need to see. Just once. I know how now, Claire. I can do it fast. You can't die and… And you won't even feel the pain. You'll just piece yourself back together like always and everything will be fine. I think I can even do it without hurting the baby." What was it that he was really saying? Did he just hear himself ask for her permission to tear her apart? To allow him to figure out what made her internally tick?

What he said was true. Gabriel knew for certain that he could complete the procedure and put her back together before her body succumbed to the trauma or blood loss. Claire really wouldn't feel any pain. And with her regenerative properties the probability of any harm coming to child inside of her weighed less than 5% approximating for undeterminable variables of complication.

_5%? 5%! Variables? Did I seriously just put my unborn progeny's life at stake for 5%? Did I just seriously consider breaking Claire - my Claire - bashing her head open because she won't feel it? God help me. Please. God, oh, God, please stop me._

But it would be so easy to just give in.

They were only a few minutes away from cleansing relief. Gabriel would be out of pain. Claire would be free of him as if nothing had ever happened. They could live happily ever after. Together forever. _In and out. Three maybe four minutes. Five tops. And then it'll be over. Last time. I promise I just need one more time and that's it. Never again. Just this once. God, no. No! _If only he could just get one little peek at her hypothalamus.

Claire stood with her back to the wall, frantically looking between him and the street below for any chance of escape. "It doesn't have to be this way," she cried when he took another rigid step towards her. "Gabriel, you can control it. You can fight this."

"I can't."

Another strangled step forward and Claire made her decision. Gabriel ran after her when she hurled her body over the wall of the rooftop and out into the empty space of air that rushed past her on the way to the pavement. Telekinetic hands shot out to grip her, but as always, she slipped through his untrained fingers. The descent was slowed a bit but not enough to calm the sickening crack of bone when her body slammed into the street.

"No!" Gabriel flailed about as if he were falling after her only to smack face first into the floor. One of his neighbors pounded on the thin wall for quiet subsequently ushering him back into reality. "She's not dead. She's not dead," he chanted to the carpet rug. "I didn't kill her," he whined through the hot sting of tears.

Every night since he had helplessly watched her plummet from the roof Gabriel had fallen asleep on the couch, unable to bring himself back to the bed that still smelled like her without the courtesy of having Claire hiding within its sheets, and drifted off into the same gut wrenching nightmare. Night after night he had to stand by and watch her fall over and over and over again because whether or not he had actually lifted a finger against her it was his actions that had put her blood on his hands.

He had tracked her that night, running after the Primatech van that had appeared as fast as he could until it inevitably fell out of sight and then following random droplets of blood and his own disembodied intuition. Claire had made it almost twelve city blocks before running into the corner of a little loan office promising cash advances against payroll checks. A strand of her hair had stuck to the brick, waving listlessly in the breeze, telling him about how she had rested her head against the surface. Thin whites scratches drifted down the side with a small smear of blood. She had clung to the building for support before losing her balance and clawed her way down breaking a nail in the process. Three brown dots of dried blood in a small concentrated area told him that she hadn't been able to stand in place for long until she fell. And then a faint pinkish smear indicated where Claire would have been laying until moved. That was where the trail went miserably cold.

Gabriel scouted every square inch of the block surrounding the area looking for anything that might have been a clue about her movements from that point on, but there was nothing left except for a light patch of tire rubber most likely belonging to the Primatech van. He took little solace in knowing that she hadn't been stranded there for long, most likely unconscious as there were no signs of any further struggle.

The evidence that haunted him the most though was the blood itself. All of Claire's wounds would have been healed by the time that she had gotten there and since he had found no evidence of succeeding injury since her fall he was left with only one conclusion. Pure, violent shame had ripped through him for not thinking about the welfare of the baby before. He had been in such a state of shock over Claire and the maddening helplessness that came with not knowing what had happened to her that it hadn't even occurred to him until he was staring at it.

So many nights had been spent just watching her sleep. Studying her. Gabriel knew that with her specific ability carrying a pregnancy to term would be difficult but could be done. Her body would initially register an invading body as a threat and work to destroy anything foreign in order to protect itself. Of course, regenerative or not she was still a fully functional woman designed by nature to have the ability to bring about life. Once her body recognized her own genetic coding working in the mix it would reverse action, pumping out heavy doses of hormone to combat normal settings and even partially shutting down the regeneration in order to avoid harming what was essentially itself. At least until an injury drastic enough to take precedence came along.

With the height and velocity that she had fallen Claire had sustained enough physical trauma to instantly kill anyone else. An internal override would have immediately gone into effect, shifting the full force of her ability back into focus for survival and inadvertently circumventing all protective efforts from the child. Assuming that her body would have kept it safe from the abrupt impact, in the aftermath the baby would have been left alone in a figurative battle field of hyperactive lymphocytes. Unless her ability could be shut down again there was no hope for survival.

In one fell swoop of poor self control he had managed to ruin his life. He had killed an innocent man. Pushed over the edge the one person in all the world that returned his love and trust. Directly contributed to the death of his own unborn child. And for what? So he could gain the ability to levitate coffee cups?

_Look at me. I can bend spoons with my mind. Aren't I special? Too bad there's no one left to care about how special I am now._

He couldn't even run to his mother like a scared little boy looking for help. Virginia had yet to speak to him again since the day he had thrown her out of the apartment for calling Claire a whore, and he had yet to forgive her for it enough to seek her out either. He had sunk as far into the darkness as was possible looking upward for any trace of solace from rock bottom.

Gabriel Gray had fallen.

**To be continued...**


	26. Revelations: Part II

**Revelations: Part II**_  
><em>

_April 26, 2006_

It was late afternoon before he made it to Hyatt where Claire had been keeping her room open. After the long night of searching high and low for her in the streets when she had fallen he slinked into the hotel, exhausted, frantic, and more than just a little wary of anybody looking after him. If there were people about that could make _her_ disappear so readily what could they do to him?

Using his telekinesis to flip the lock of the appropriate door he could still remember the minor argument they had over why she would feel a need to keep paying for the place when she was living with him, but after the way he had acted when he had accidentally discovered her ability he was able to understand somewhat the reasoning behind needing her own space to escape to, even if it did continue to hurt a bit. It seemed logical that she would retreat to familiar territory if Claire were still in the area so there Gabriel went in hopes of picking up the trail again. What he found in the room however was entirely unexpected and more terrifying than he ever could have anticipated.

A thin layer of dust coated most of the visible surfaces suggesting that housekeeping had been barred from cleaning the room for some time and that visitors had been fleeting. The air was stale from lack of circulation, Claire's scent being noticeably absent, but an oddly familiar trace of cologne was fairly fresh as were the unspent bullet casings collected on the table. Hundreds of surveillance photos were scattered about being tacked to the walls and strewn over the bed. Upon inspection he had discovered that they were all of him taken from a distance with a variety of lenses and angles. The pictures followed him around Gray and Sons, to the post box, the grocery store, his favored coffee shop, Virginia's… all of his regular haunts. And then with Claire on their first date, to the movies she had wanted to see, their walks around the park and through the open windows of his apartment where they talked and kissed and fought. Someone had been watching him for a long while.

What was more unnerving though was the pile of thick folders left half stuffed into a storage box. Full documentation of all of his credit card activity, purchases, business transactions from the store, habits and personality traits comprised the cache. Even extensive testing results from the experiments that he had participated in with Chandra Suresh. Near the bottom of the stack he found a rather weathered profile that looked as though its pages had been flipped through a thousand times with notes scribbled into the margins about an operation: _Salvation_. Skimming across the first page he only found general information listings about his full name and date of birth with some heavily redacted references to his parentage and something about an intuitive aptitude.

_Case file C004: Gabriel Gray. Weight, complexion, sex… Height 5'10"? B.S. I'm 6'1". Unique Ability: Intuitive Aptitude… Evolutionary Anomaly Class: Cerebral… Control index: 76%: biological 40, cerebral 85, elemental 45, temporal/spatial 20..._

_Who the hell are these people? _

Gabriel supposed that he didn't have to ask why they had been keeping an eye on him. If they knew he had an ability - a potentially dangerous one at that, then it served to reason that whoever _they_ were would want to gather as much information about him as possible. And they had certainly accomplished that. The owners of the profiles knew absolutely every detail of his life up until that point in time. _But why would they take Claire and not me?_

It wasn't much of leap to assume that in all of their watching someone had seen her ability in action. Perhaps when she had caught her hand in the garbage disposal, purposefully dunked it in boiling water, burnt it on the stove, accidentally cut herself or got stuck in the door; any number of occasions could have left her exposed to a trained eye. As prone to abuse as she was Gabriel had found it a wonder that he himself hadn't found her out earlier than he did. Those thoughts had left him with an even colder sense of horror. If they had seen her fall from the roof and get back up to run the way she had… If whoever was after him had come for her as well they could have taken her anywhere to never be seen again. They could be torturing her for information or experimenting on her ability, cutting her into pieces just to study how she came back together again, or worse. For all he knew she was locked away in some dank hole in the ground for the rest of her eternity and once again it all came down to being his fault because he couldn't control himself in the face of temptation.

Gabriel tried to focus past his anxieties on the task at hand. The more he knew about what they knew the better. Perhaps somewhere in all the paper he could locate clues about what was happening. Something that could detail what the plan was for him or Claire, where they had taken her, what they would do with them. Anything. He had begun to reach further into the profile to read some of the psychological analysis that they had done on him when a voice he wished he didn't recognize sounded just outside the door.

"Yes, I'm aware of the situation," Noah Bennet grumbled as he came in from the hall, carefully shutting the door behind himself. "I'm in the process of moving the files out now." Gabriel held his breath as he watched Noah's shoes shuffle about the box that he had been previously looking into from his hiding place beneath the bed next to a duffle bag stuffed with a curious amount of cash. The mattress sank down onto him when the other man sat causing him to stifle a gasp of surprise which fortunately Noah was distracted from hearing.

"She died? That never gets any easier to hear," he sighed into the phone. "Especially when its my daughter." Gabriel clamped his hand down over his mouth to silence the tear that leaked from the corner of his eye. _She thought she could never die but complications… 5%. _"No. Petrelli seems to think that we've got what we came for." _Petrelli? _A memory of a gold plated pocket watch rushed back at him. Claire had known the man - Peter, that had brought it to him. She had told him that he was her uncle which meant that she was obviously related to whoever was involved in whatever kind of mess he had gotten himself into, and it had been quite clear that there was money to be found in those lines.

"We're still not in on the whole scheme." Noah got up from his perch on the bed and bent over to grab the box of folders, placing the lid on it and picking it up." Whatever Angela has planned is big enough to keep everybody in the dark, but apparently we're supposed to be done with Gray unless we can come up with some kind of proof that…" The polished shoes shuffled away and Bennet's voice drifted back out into the hall and out of ear shot.

Gabriel rolled out from under the bed to check that the door had been locked securely behind him when Noah had left. He had maybe a few minutes to search for anything before the man returned. Dashing over to the nightstand he found a pad of paper with indentations in the top sheet marking that something had been written there recently. Grabbing the pencil beside the notepad he shaded over the markings in an attempt to read what it said.

_April 18, 11:23. _The day and time that he had killed Brian Davis. Panic swelled in his throat. They knew what he had done.

A business card for Primatech Paper Co. was tucked neatly beneath the phone catching his eye. Gabriel picked it up and studied the phone number listing for a moment before taking a deep breath and dialing. "Primatech Paper, this is Claudia. How may I direct your call?"

"Claire Bennet, please," he answered, summoning a steely edge to his voice.

"One moment please." The line cut out briefly with a series of clicks in the background like a wire tap tracing the location of call origination, and then it connected back to the forwarding number. It rang several times before someone picked up on the other end.

"Primatech Paper, you've reached Claire Bennet," a curt voice answered, belonging to an older woman that was most definitely not his Claire. "Hello?" the voice asked irritably when he remained silent and then promptly disconnected. Unfortunately that had been as far as he was able to investigate. At the sound of Bennet returning Gabriel had ducked into the bathroom and then slipped out of the room at the first available opportunity. He had returned several hours later in hopes of finding more, but the room had been thoroughly cleaned out. All of the pictures, files, money and guns were gone without a trace. Not even a fingerprint had been left behind as though Claire or the mysterious organization had never been there at all.

Gabriel busied himself with furiously cleaning every nook and cranny of the watch shop while he attempted to make some semblance of sense from what he knew. Claire had come into his life with false identifications and a service revolver. She had always been just a little off, like she was telling him the truth, but not all of it. Of course he had pushed all of that information away upon discovering that she was a virtually immortal fifteen-year-old. Claire and her father were clearly working for the Petrellis who were apparently heading up Primatech. He snorted at himself when he remembered the pithy remark Bennet had made at dinner about how they weren't just selling paper. It was government paper. Primatech didn't have anything at all to do with paper or selling it, but the government part stuck with him. What if they were some kind of secret branch of a shadow government involved with the tracking and research of people with evolved abilities? That would explain why they were all needlessly armed, the funding, and the strangers that followed him around. What if Claire had just been some kind of plant used to lure him out? What if everything that they had had was a lie?

And yet, she was just a kid. A kid that had made more than a few comments about how her father was the reason that she had joined the Company. Granted that it had taken her a while to warm up to him but after she had Claire's affection for him had been genuine. Gabriel remained steady in his confidence of that. She had been so ready for them to run away together and start new lives…

He didn't even notice when his fingers began to bleed from being rubbed raw by his incessant cleansing of the store's shelves. Gabriel's mind was spinning violently with thoughts about how Claire might have been pushed into becoming an agent, assigned to infiltrate his life, and then gone rogue once she had gotten close to him. But that was ridiculous. Things like that didn't happen.

But if things like that didn't happen then why did the Company have such extensive research on him? How did she know that he had killed Davis? How did she know about his use of the name Sylar? And more importantly, why were Claire and their child dead? The thought stung like a red hot poker to the heart and he reflexively flinched away from it.

Something fell out from beneath the clock he had set about scrubbing and clattered on the floor. Climbing down from his step ladder Gabriel discovered a small black box about half the size of a ring box with what appeared to be a miniature antenna. A camera. They knew what he had done because they had watched it happen.

But no. Claire hadn't known at first… Only after he had showed her the telekinesis. _How? Why didn't they stop me?_ _If she was in on it why didn't she know? _Nothing fit together in a way that made any sense whatsoever and it made his head hurt to keep to thinking about it.

Gabriel held the camera out in front of him, careful to keep the lens focused on him. "I don't know who you are yet, but the only person I've ever loved is gone because of you. You took her away from me and now I'm going to hunt you. Find you. And hurt you." With vengeance in his heart he dropped the camera to the floor and took vindictive pleasure in crushing it under his foot. That had been a week ago.

The day after he had gone back to Chandra, apologizing profusely for his outburst during their last meeting and offering to show the doctor proof of his ability. All had been forgiven once Suresh had seen an undeniable example of telekinesis in action. They had excitedly agreed to embark on an adventure together to find others with evolved abilities which had given him further access to research listings. Gabriel had carefully memorized names and addresses to be copied down once he returned home. If Primatech had been keeping such close tabs on him he felt it reasonable to assume that they would also be watching for others and anybody on Chandra's listings could provide a link back to them. Noah Bennet and whoever the Angela that he had referred to was may have thought that they were done with him but he wouldn't allow them to get away so easily. Or so he thought.

Gabriel had approached a woman the next day that Suresh had thought to have an ability to camouflage herself from view. He had told her that he was an intern for a local political office being sent out to survey the opinions of residents. With a dose of charm and an easy smile he had slipped through the door and secured her confidence. They chatted amicably while he waited out any sign of the Company, but when he really began to see her instead of the use she was filling for him, things got a little more difficult.

He had been relaxing on her over stuffed couch, laughing lightly at some joke she had made and the girl was beginning to subtly work signals of attraction in his direction. Gabriel studied the way her pupils dilated slightly when looking at him and the shy half-smiles she attempted to suppress through his grin of false intentions. It wasn't long before he began to ponder the function and inner workings of her ability. How she could ionize the air around her, disturbing the atmosphere so that light actually refracted away from her body giving the impression of invisibility.

She had naively mistaken the flush in his cheeks for a blush when the heat started to course through him. The irresistible yearning within to be made whole, more complete with knowledge of her ability raked over his being like razor sharp claws. Gabriel recognized the sensation for what it was, the _Hunger _that called him like a siren's song to his next fix, and he was terrified to realize how easy it would be to sate. They were alone with no expected company. She trusted him. He could simply slide over to her side under the guise of a flirt or innocent kiss and have her in his grasp with very little effort.

Gabriel was instantly brought back to Brian and how he had felt with the man's blood slicking his hands, caked beneath his fingernails, and then to Claire. The woman before him may have meant something to someone much the same way as Claire had. He couldn't bring himself to cause the kind of pain that he felt to another person. He needed her power the way a man lost in the desert would need a drink of water, but he needed his focus more. Control took precedence. Gabriel had hurriedly excused himself, straining against his instincts with every ounce of will that he could muster and left her confused but unscathed. After that incident he had decided that perhaps close contact hadn't been the wisest of tactics to employ.

He rolled over so that his face was no longer buried in the carpet rug. Rubbing his eyes he let out a grunt of frustration. A strand of blonde hair stuck in the rug caught his attention. Claire's hair was everywhere and no matter how many times he swept or vacuumed or scrubbed he could never get rid of all of it. Then again he wasn't sure that he wanted to. The lasting fragrance of her shampoo that kept tangled up in her brushes and the clothing that lay scattered around the bedroom were the only proof that she had ever been there. The apartment that had only ever been a place to live before she had come along had been turned into a home while she was there and without her it just became empty. Lonely. And he was helpless to correct that. She was gone and would never come back.

The one thing that Gabriel hated more than the helplessness he felt though was the sense of being useless. He couldn't even be around the people that could provide a link to those that he had promised himself he would gain vengeance against. Not without the possibility of succumbing to his want for their power.

He jumped to his feet in a fit of irritation. Pacing back and forth for a moment while he struggled to gain some perspective the sight of his couch flooded him with the memory of the last time that Claire had been in the apartment. Gabriel could remember the warmth of her body against his as clearly as if he were still touching her. The feel of her hair as it brushed over his shoulder, the press of her lips on his and the sweetness of her sweat that had gotten caught up in the pillows. A faint spot of virginity between the cushions as constant as the shine in her smile. Somewhere in the process of recalling all the irrelevant ways that he missed her a hand flew from his side bringing with it the sound of shredded fabric. Bits of fluff floated in the air momentarily. When it cleared Gabriel was left with the view of his couch… having been neatly sawed in half.

Davis was right, he thought to himself as he stared down at the offending hand. He really didn't know who he could hurt.

* * *

><p>Angela peered through the pane of glass into the room where Claire lay neatly wrapped in the white sheets of a clinic bed, sound asleep with the Haitian faithfully waiting at her side. "How is she?"<p>

The doctor at her side skimmed over the top pages of the patient's chart and gave a low whistle. "She'll be fine. No long term damage I don't think. You were definitely right about the pregnancy. It's hard to say exactly how far along she is because of her ability. This is the first time we've been able to study reproduction in a female Regen. I've never seen anything like it before. Even with her ability running at half capacity... The cells are multiplying at exponential speeds that we can't even completely measure -"

Angela turned to give the man a stern, tight lipped frown that displayed just how little she cared for his personal fascination in the matter. "Sorry ma'am," he immediately apologized. "If I had to guess I'd say she's about sixteen weeks along. We're looking at maybe a four to five month gestation period."

She didn't bother to dismiss the doctor. Instead she swiped her card through the electronic lock that would grant her access to the room and stepped inside to sit beside the Haitian. Angela's eyes moved worriedly over the lines of equipment monitoring her vital signs and came to rest on the silver chain still draped around her neck. Plucking the necklace away she graced her fingertips across the engraving before turning the watch face over. She found the dial that would adjust the time and twirled the little hands about from the designated 3:51 until they landed seven minutes from midnight.

"It's time."

**To be continued...**


	27. Chapter 27

**ZOMG s****he lives! I haven't abandoned poor Gabe I promise. I could give you all a whole list of reasons why it's taken me so long to update but let it suffice to say that between work and holiday season shenanigans I've been buried alive with stuff to do. Anyways, in the last chapters there were a couple of questions that need to be answered. No, Gabriel didn't get to take any of the files that were hidden in Claire's hotel room. I thought about that but then it seemed like it would have been obvious to someone like HRG that something had gone missing. At first Gabriel did believe that Claire was still alive but after he had his run in with HRG in the hotel and over heard the phone conversation about her dying, he sort of decided she was dead and got on his little revenge streak. I'm still seriously thinking about writing those chapters again to make them more clear but that might have to wait for a while because I want to finish this story. On with the show!**

* * *

><p><em>April 26, 2006<em>

Gabriel pulled the last loop of his noose tight with a classic flare of textbook perfection. Examining that the knots were appropriately twisted over one another and that the weight and length ratios were correct for someone of his stature, he felt secure that his final project would be one without flaw. For all of the mistakes that he had made over the past months he would make restitution with his life. One moment where he refused to fail. It was an odd bit of poetic justice he felt, that the thrilling conclusion to his fall from grace should be made where everything had started.

Inside of his humble little watch shop he had lived as an ordinary and utterly forgettable man. Beneath the dim lights of Gray and Sons he had toiled away for countless hours with dreams of being something more. Something special. And it was also there that the fateful day had come when she had walked through the door and brought him exactly what it was that he had been missing for all of those years. Claire had made him feel the acceptance and the love that he had craved. Made him whole. _Special_. Mere feet away where a grisly blood stain was curiously absent was the place where he had traded that fulfillment for a gift that satisfied, but could never quench.

He pulled the chair away from the desk, climbing on top with an irritable squeak of metal for the weight, and tossed the end of his rope over one of the support beams running the length of the ceiling near an intersection sturdy enough to stand the strain of what he was about to do. A fleeting thought came to him that were he not about to die he would have had to fix that squeak. Instead he focused on binding the rope the way he had during testing. Granted the act was somewhat irrational in retrospect, attempting to simulate a hanging with the hundred pounds of potatoes that he had bought had taught him a valuable lesson about the way the rope would react once the dead weight had formed a bit of pendulum motion. A knot tied one way would remain secure while the fashion of his first attempt would fail miserably and result in dropping himself on his backside, indignant and mostly unscathed.

With the noose looped and drawn about his neck he drew in a last breath and held it until his lungs burned. _Goodbye Claire. _And then he kicked the chair out from under himself.

There was a stab of panic as he felt the rope constrict around his throat. He had hoped that his neck would break but perhaps he had miscalculated the height necessary for snapping the vertebrae. Gabriel floundered helplessly in the awkward position he was in, unable to reach the chair that had rolled away or the edge of his desk. However much he had wanted this end the instinct for self preservation was very much prevalent.

And then the pressure on his windpipe was gone.

He was flat on his back staring upward through the partially obscured vision of oxygen deprivation. In between involuntary ragged gasps for air his fragile mind processed the presence of hands pulling away the rope at his neck and a trace of burnt smell that couldn't be identified. A cloud of blonde hair swept lightly over his shoulder and for a moment he dared to hope.

"Are you alright?" The ambient light cast a halo effect about the crown of her golden head and bright blue eyes gazed down on him in concern. Gabriel glossed over her features from the model-like bone structure in her cheeks and jaw to the cherry curve of her lips. _Claire? _He had been so wrapped up in himself that he hadn't even heard her coming. _Is this heaven? _"Say something."

"Forgive me."

Her body was warm against his as she pulled him into her, absorbing the hot sting of tears that rolled from his eyes and into the fabric of her white shirt. She felt so small in his grasp as he wound his arms around her waist for desperate comfort, delicate, soft. With her feather light, amber locks and brilliant stare, the petite shape and the familiar raking of nurturing fingers through his hair this mysterious woman was a comparable sight for sore eyes, but inauthentic. She was just a touch too thin and an odd scent like ozone clung to her skin. She wasn't Claire. A substitute at best for the real thing.

Once the primary daze of what had transpired passed and Gabriel began to realize that he was essentially cuddling with a strange woman that he had never met before and whom had just witnessed his failed attempt at suicide, he pulled away and crawled backwards a short distance to curl in on his shattered self. Claire and their child were still gone. He was still a murderer. And he was still alone. Nothing had been accomplished but another crippling, gut wrenching failure.

His visitor came to rest near his side, leaning against a line of cabinetry, and watched over his eerie fit of silence for a long time before speaking again. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

"No it isn't," he mumbled. "I've done something unforgivable."

"Everybody does bad things. You think I haven't felt exactly how you're feeling right now?" Gabriel clutched at his chest where the crushing weight had settled over his heart in a pain that felt more than physical. "Maybe if you talk about it… Sometimes when you talk about it -"

"I can't." He turned his head to look the stranger that was trying to pry into his life in the eyes. Their similarities remained easy to see, but after having a second glance he wasn't sure how he could have mistaken her for his Claire, which served to embitter him against the poor replacement a bit. And then a wave of shame came to wash that flinch of resentment away. After all that he had done Gabriel held no right to judge the girl for being a genetic probability of combined attributes. In some ways, psychologically, he had been seeing blondes everywhere he went since Claire's disappearance.

"A man had something that I wanted, but I took it at a terrible price."

"I know it seems hard to imagine, but you're going to get through this. Because you're not," she reached out to extend a comforting hand to his knee, "a bad person." The simple gesture caught his attention in more ways than one. While he knew that the motion was one of pure intent towards his own well being, meant to inspire comfort, it seemed somehow intimate in its reminiscence of the way Claire would touch him when she would say that he was being too hard on himself somehow.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know what I see. A man who deserves a second chance. The rope broke," she added with a demonstration of the frayed end where it had snapped. "You can't tell me that's not a sign."

_A second chance. _Gabriel chuckled to himself with the thought. _What are the odds of another dream girl wandering through those doors at the right time. _

"I don't even know your name."

"Elle."

"_Elle_," he repeated softly, indulging in her sad little smile. "Look at you, Elle, just showing up out of nowhere… Like an angel."

"An angel with a broken watch." She held up an antique on a golden chain that caught the light with a glimmer that reflected in her eyes. Maybe it wasn't a Sylar watch, but the piece was certainly vintage from the early 1920's and a rare find. Surely he would be the only one to fix it.

_A second chance indeed. Maybe she's right. _

Gabriel grasped the watch in her hand, choosing to linger in the gentle heat of her palm for a heart's beat before taking it into his possession. Lifting the piece to his ear for a listen, he kept his eyes on her shining ones. Light cascaded down the slope of her cheek, filtering in through the window and causing sparkling dust motes to dance in synergy with the faint pink of blush that was rising beneath her porcelain flesh. "I can fix it," he promised with an awed sense of hope for renewed purpose in life.

"I was hoping that you would say that," she beamed, her smile exposing a row of perfect pearly white teeth. "I think I've been everywhere else in the city. You were my last hope."

He found it hard to deny that he enjoyed the prospect of Elle needing him in any capacity. Rolling back to his feet he extended his free hand to help her up, again lingering in their proximity. "Let me just, um, check in the back to make sure that I have some parts for this."

"I'll be right here," she told him with a little smile, rolling on the balls of her feet in a happy bounce. Gabriel dropped his gaze back to the watch in his hand with amusement, turning back for a second before entering the work room holding all of his replacement pieces to see her standing perfectly in the exact same spot.

"How old are you, Elle?"

"Twenty-three. Why?"

"No reason." Gabriel slipped a shy smile before disappearing into the shadows of the work room. The moment he was out of sight Elle pulled a buttonhole camera from her shirt and held it up so that the footage could capture her face and a brief thumbs up gesture. She scoped out the expanse of the watch shop in search of a place to hide the new surveillance camera, her eyes stopping on an old grandfather clock decorated with pristine stained glass and rich mahogany wood. Elle traced her fingers over the lovingly restored face finding the care that had been placed in the aging antique enviable before tucking the tiny camera into a cavity that would be able to capture most of the scene.

Inside of his work room Gabriel flipped through a few velvet lined drawers of rare parts that he had acquired over the years until he found a shiny silver cog that he knew would function perfectly as a replacement for the one in Elle's watch with a broken tooth. He fingered the miniature oddity for a moment with a sullen smile. Yes, he would indeed be able to repair the watch with minimal effort. And yet, his mind rolled to a pause when he considered holding the piece overnight as he had with Claire just for an excuse to see the girl again. She had comforted him at a very dark moment and he felt that he somehow owed it to her to take the proposed second chance seriously. Gabriel decided quite firmly in that second that he would not allow his mistakes with Claire to be repeated. He would be open and honest with Elle from the very beginning, show her exactly who and what he was, and what the risks were that came with that. She would have the fighting chance that he had never given his Claire.

It took less than five minutes for Gabriel to pry off the back of her watch and to disassemble the top portion so that the broken cog could be replaced, perhaps two minutes to put it back together in working order but he couldn't sure. His eyes kept losing their focus to the Sylar watch that ticked away its smooth, almost hypnotic reliability on the corner of the bench. Such solid craftsmanship like that was nearly impossible to find in a more contemporary piece. It could be dropped, drowned, and bashed repeatedly, broken apart, and yet unlike even Elle's watch, the Sylar would remain functional. Sylar was a constant. Like Claire.

His fingers roamed over the glass of the display recalling with perfect clarity how many times he had attempted to fix the Sylar on his own. And how it wasn't until Claire had come along that he was given the key he needed. She had repaired him as much or more than he could ever have done the same for her watch. Gabriel would never forget that. Nor would he allow her faithful efforts to be spent in vain. He slid the Sylar over his wrist and fastened it tight - a perfect fit. So long as his mind and body were in cohesion the Sylar would never again leave his side. It was promise. Gabriel kept his promises.

Venturing back outside of his work room, Gabriel's eyes were drawn to the spot that Elle had promised she would be in when he returned. He cursed himself for believing in such a kindness so quickly when the space was obviously vacant.

"Over here." A dainty hand waved to him over a line of shelving that stood an inch or two taller than she did. "I like this one," Elle told him with a grin as he crossed over to where she stood in front of the grandfather clock. "It reminds me of someone." At the quirk of a mildly confused brow she elaborated. "Because he's pretty." Gabriel deflated a bit under the assumption that she was talking about a boyfriend he had not previously been aware of. _Of course she's already seeing someone. Who wouldn't want a girl like her… _"And he keeps going even though he's _really_ old."

"It's my favorite too." He smiled again with relief. "Here's your watch back. It should be working fine now."

"Oh, wow. How much do I owe you?"

_A second chance. _"I was thinking dinner." Elle stuttered in blatant surprise. Having never been out with a man on anything that could be considered a _real_ date the sudden interest in her was startling. "My place. I'll do the cooking."

"I think I'd like that."

* * *

><p>Elle Bishop approached the Primatech van that waited down the block and out of sight from the Gray and Son's watch shop, knocking her knuckles against the side to announce her presence to her partner. Noah popped open the back with a sarcastic smile on his face, announcing, "Cute meet," in mockery of the video footage that had been captured of her interactions with Gabriel via the buttonhole camera that she had stashed inside.<p>

Elle rolled her eyes. "I still don't understand why we don't just bag and tag this guy like the rest of them."

_Because he's not like the rest. Mr. Gray is… special. _Noah rolled back to the lap tops that were set to record Gabriel's movements in absence of the surveillance camera that he had smashed under foot. "For years scientists were stumped by the mystery of whale migration." Shutting the system down so that the team could move out, he continued, "Such a big ocean. How do they find each other?" He climbed out from the van, closing the doors behind him. "And then one night in the frozen Pacific, some enterprising biologists recorded their song - in the wild. They don't sing in captivity."

"So, we've got to get the whale to sing."

"What Mr. Gray can do is extraordinary." Bennet opened the passenger side door for Elle to jump in. "The ability to transfer power from one vessel to another is extremely rare."

With the door shut behind her and the van ready to move on she turned to him with a questioning look. "Yeah. But how do I get him to do it?"

Noah paused for a moment, mentally retracing all of his steps over the course of the prior assignment. He thought over some of the things that he had observed and what Claire had reported about the target settling on the day when they had all met in Angela's office. "Pie." He hopped into the driver's seat with a Cheshire grin. "_Peach_ pie to be exact. It's his favorite."

Driving out of the alley Bennet took a sideways glance at Elle slumping in the passenger seat with her nose pressed to the glass watching the world drift by them. He couldn't have possibly thought of a better replacement for Claire. The hair, the stature, the youthful appearance… as perfect a stand in as they would ever find. Gray's '_type_' to the T. Not to mention the records in Sylar's file that detailed them having a relationship of sorts a few years into the future. The shady side of his character maliciously enjoyed the prospect of using her to lure Gabriel towards the Company's grasp. With substantial proof that he was a danger to society Angela had given him full permission to bring Gray in for a lovely stay in Level Five. After a satisfying round of torture… _testing_, he corrected himself. They called it testing. It was just destiny that they should meet. He just had to hope that she wanted to keep her status as an agent badly enough to hold herself together.

"What is it that you have against this guy?" Elle asked with a finger twining in a lock of her hair. "I mean, he didn't seem so bad to me."

_That's because you're a sociopath. _"It's just business Elle. You should know that better than anyone." Noah gave her a sidelong look through the flash of his glasses. "If you don't think you can handle it we can always transfer you back to Level One. I'm sure Adam would be happy to have you back."

"I can handle it." The stubborn set of her mouth and serious slant of her eyes were very convincing. She really did remind him of his own daughter. Sans the psychosis of course.

"I'm sure you can."

* * *

><p>Angela stirred from her dream, a faint smile of devious intentions pulling at the corners of her mouth. She brought herself to a more comfortable sitting position in her chair and watched a laboratory technician spread a clear jelly over her granddaughter's belly. Claire slept peacefully under constant sedation to insure the safety of her unborn child, blissfully unaware of the Haitian's around the clock presence at her side, or the rapid fluttering of the baby's heart beat echoing out of the machinery.<p>

"It seems that Noah is determined to find his proof that Gabriel Gray is a threat to us all." Angela smirked at the Haitian's darkened expression. "Everything is going according to plan. Sylar will be joining us very soon."

"Congratulations, it's a boy," the technician said with a proud smile. Angela and the Haitian both turned to look at the monitor showing a fuzzy set of ameba structures in a deep grey setting. She was never sure how exactly they could tell such things from sonogram pictures, but in the end it didn't matter. She had already known. "And he looks perfectly healthy."

"Good. Make sure he stays that way," Angela ordered curtly. She swept her fingers over the exposed side of Claire's rounding stomach. The master key to all of her plans lay within the unborn child. The secret to bringing about Sylar's end and exacting her vengeance.

**To be continued...**


	28. Chapter 28

**I noticed that there seemed to be ****some concern about where the direction of the story was going since Elle's appearance in the last chapter. History does seem to be repeating itself, it's true. But I guess you'll just have to trust me when I say that I haven't started showing all my cards just yet in this poker game. I think I've got about four or five chapters left in this story (no Haitian mind wipes included) so if you can stick with me that long you'll start getting a little bang for your buck. It only gets better from here. **

* * *

><p><em>April 27, 2006<em>

Gabriel stared at the set of fingers that he held aloft. Giving them a little flick sent a ripple through the gelatinous material of space that comprised the air of the room. He tracked the shockwave as it shuddered outward and the resulting _crack_ of dry wall as another section of the apartment blew apart to spray over the floor. Dust billowed about the area where he stood causing him to cough for a second before it settled in a fine mist at his feet.

He dropped one of the digits, choosing to keep only the index finger pointed at his target. Keeping in mind a singular cruel thought for what he could make the ability do a Primatech agent, Noah Bennet immediately springing into his imagination, he focused on tuning a fine line through the ripple of space. A neighbor banged on the opposing wall for quiet after the _crash_ of board cracked over the floor.

_That's better, _he mused at the neatly carved section of wall.

Gabriel had been hard at practice all morning. Broken pieces of the lamp that had sat on a table next to the shredded couch were scattered about the bookshelf behind him from a failed levitation experiment. Random items of cutlery were strewn all over the kitchen, one fork continuing to stick in the floor at an odd angle. Pages from books littered the carpet over the front of another line of shelving where he had accidentally blown them apart after stubbing a toe first thing upon waking. And the wall that he remained intent on knocking down was decorated with gouges and irregularly shaped incisions. At first he hadn't quite been able to push his way completely through leaving harsh indentations and pock marks instead. But after trying a few deep breathing exercises to keep his state of calm in check, the lines that he had been drawing steadily improved until they resembled cuts made by precision instruments rather than that of a half-crazed man with a lousy sledgehammer.

Emotional stability it seemed, was pivotal in fine control of the ability. As long as he was able to maintain control over himself, locking down his sense of focus, his telekinesis obeyed like a third hand. However, as he entered the bathroom to splash some cool water on his face, the sight of Claire's bathrobe that he had kept hanging over the shower curtain rod exactly where she had left it captured his attention. Gabriel wandered over to the plush, pastel pink fabric and bunched its fuzzy comfort up in his hands. He could still smell her in it. Could still remember the precise little smile she would wear coming out from a shower wearing it and drying her hair with a towel. He could picture in his mind the way she would stick her tongue out at him mischievously when he chastised her for dripping water everywhere. The memories that simple little robe would carry within its threads… Like the satin smooth texture of her skin as he ran his palms up her thighs. But that would never happen again.

Behind him a sharp clatter sounded where shards from the mirror clinked into the sink. "Damn it," he grumbled to himself as he dropped the pink robe back to its resting place and examined the shattered mirror. _Still needs some work. _Gabriel sliced a finger on one of the broken pieces that he picked up for disposal. He watched the blood trickle out from the wound to slide down the length of his finger. How appropriate it was in a dark sort of way that thinking about the girl who could heal herself would cause him to bleed. Gabriel startled himself with the burst of hysterical laughter that bubbled out.

_How better to control one's emotions than to embrace them…_

Somewhere in the shadowy recesses of his mind he knew what he was doing was completely irrational. Nonsensical. Maybe a little crazy. Gabriel used the wounded finger to scrawl over the broken piece of mirror that he had cut himself on, squeezing the tip of his digit to draw more blood from the wound when he ran out. The words _'Forgive Me_' shined at his reflection in the glimmering shard of glass.

"For I have sinned," he finished in a whisper several minutes later as he hung the bloodied glass on the wall. During his little stint at remodeling he had discovered a false wall that lead to an area branching out from the living room. The strange little annex of space didn't seem to serve any sort of purpose, which perhaps had been why it was blocked off, but standing beneath the cob webs and layers of dust from years of being hidden from the world an idea started to form. Gabriel had taken the pictures of Claire that he gained for Suresh's files and tacked them to the wall where the glass rested beside them. A macabre alter to the lost angel… created by her fallen one.

"God help me," he laughed in another hysterical fit. "I am a sad, sad man."

* * *

><p>Clean up efforts from the morning's rather destructive practice session had taken him far longer than anticipated. Removing the scraps of his couch had proved to be much easier after breaking it down into yet smaller chunks, but hauling the remnants of the wall was tiresome. There were only so many trips one man could make to the dumpster behind the apartment complex at the cost of three flights of stairs both ways. Gabriel was thoroughly exhausted by the time he had finished dusting, vacuuming, and taking out the last of the trash so he was forced to put off repairing the structural damage for the time being. In lieu of building another wall he bolted a long pole across the damaged section and hung heavy curtains from it to mask the mess and provide another boundary line to the bedroom. A hasty shower and some redecorating for the sparse space later he found himself checking his watch in preparation for Elle's arrival.<p>

As he disassembled the board of ability and Company related information that had taken up pride of place in his modest kitchen area he internally cursed himself. Both for having exerted so much energy that he had failed to properly prepare for the meet with Elle. And for being sloppy enough to leave something like that lying around until the last minute. It was true enough that Gabriel had intended to tell her everything anyhow, but there was something rather abrasive about the thought of battering someone with a _'Hello. Thank you for coming. Have I told you that I'm on a personal crusade to hunt down the people responsible for kidnapping and possibly murdering my last girlfriend yet?_' the moment they walked in the door. And then the knock came.

Gabriel couldn't exactly just leave the girl standing out there so he checked to make sure that it was indeed his expected visitor and began planning a way to gently explain the complications of his life to her. A very enthusiastic Elle greeted him with a wide, somewhat nervous grin. "Hi! Do you like pie?" He broke his train of thought to take in the dish she balanced in one hand, covered by a tea towel, and smiled with some amusement when she seemed briefly embarrassed about the introduction. "That rhymed didn't it."

"Come on in." Elle stepped inside and looked about for a minute making him slightly self conscious about the dust he may have missed from his previous activities. "I'm really glad you came, Elle. I wasn't sure you would."

"I have been thinking about you, and wondering how you've been since..."

"Better. Great actually. Um, thanks to you." _For reminding me of her. For putting me back on my path. For giving me another chance to get it right. _"I just decided to clean up this place and all this clutter," he quickly explained away the potential mess that she was about to find. "Filling my head with bad thoughts." _Like hunting people down. _While he had initially started to collect the profiles with pure intentions of observing the people for Primatech activity, he couldn't deny that there had been a certain amount of temptation in holding so much personal information related to people with abilities. Especially when he remembered the feeling he had experienced obtaining Davis's power. That primal sensation of elation that could elevate like a drug. Terrifying in nature. And absolutely addictive.

"What's this?" she asked, spying one of his lists of names that had been placed on the table.

"Oh, that's just, um…" Gabriel pulled off his glasses to examine the lenses for imaginary smudges in anxious habit. _Tell her the truth. You were going to be honest from the start. _"It's a, uh, list of people like me."

"Nice, single guys like you?" Elle casually flirted with a light laugh. "Maybe I should take this list."

"No," he stammered, grabbing the paper from her hands and crumpling it into a ball. Gabriel tossed the ball of paper into the trash bin and turned back to see a look of disappointed confusion mixed with apprehension at his reaction on Elle's delicate features. "Um…" _Tell her the truth! _"Sorry, Elle. There's, um, there's actually something that you need to know about me. I have a kind of a power. Um, an ability… that's out of the ordinary."

"I don't understand." Her blank look stumped him for a moment. Unsure of how to proceed explaining, Gabriel decided it was best to just show her what he could do and hope that it didn't end with her trying to throw herself off a roof. Extending his fingers as he had in practice he gave the dish rack on the counter the most gentle nudge that he could manage with his level of control. It slid across the surface a few inches and a tiny flick of his wrist brought a fork flipping out of it and into the sink.

"Oh my God."

"The other people on the list can do things too."

"Wait, there are others?" Gabriel didn't have a name for what he felt when she asked that question. Maybe it was something in her eyes, her body language, or tone of voice. Maybe it was just a flash of intuition on some level. But whatever it was that he had stumbled on he knew that there was _something _out of place with her. Almost like there had been with Claire when they had first met. Elle barely even seemed surprised with his revelation.

He felt odd about continuing their conversation as it were so he grasped at the first available straw to change subject matter. "What kind of pie did you bring?"

"Peach," she answered with a flawless smile that he couldn't help but to return.

"That's my favorite kind." Elle turned her back to him coyly and the smile instantly dropped from his face. _What are those odds of another angel exactly? _Aside from his extrasensory perception that told him she had an ability, it was also screaming that she was a little _too_ perfect. Sirens were blaring inside his head that something was wrong with the situation. He couldn't trust her.

"Do you mind if I use your restroom?"

"No, go ahead," he gestured. _Do all women really have to pee that much or is there something else they're doing in there? _Using the bathroom had also been one of the first things that Claire had done. Either there was a secret about the toilet that he didn't know, or females were even more confounding than originally thought. "It's the second door on the right." Gabriel watched Elle disappear into the bathroom and waited for the _click_ of the door closing. He used every second of her time away to finish clearing the board of ability information before she could get another look and shoved all of it into a box that was placed in the annex room.

Thankfully, if she had seen Claire's bathrobe she chose not to say anything about it. Gabriel could only guess at the some assumptions that could go through her upon spying a pink terrycloth garment in an adult, single male's shower. "I see you're not really into furniture," Elle remarked with what was becoming her trade mark smile in his mind.

"No, uh, I guess not." He gave a slight chuckle to match hers and mask some of the anxiety that swelling inside of him. The lack of couch did end up leaving the living room a little more vacant than he had thought it would. She wandered about the room for a few minutes taking in his vast collection of books and running her fingers over their spines as she read the names. "What's in here?" Elle lifted the edge of the curtain to peek into his bedroom and Gabriel nearly had a heart attack.

"Don't," he commanded a little more roughly than intended, reaching out to grab her hand and stop her. He hadn't had the heart to pack away Claire's things yet so all of her clothes and shoes, and one little white teddy bear holding a pink rose that he had found for her after discovering her love of stuffed animals, remained as they had been the last time she touched them. It may have been his apartment, but the bedroom had become _hers_. It was Claire's room, her space, her things, and he couldn't imagine letting another woman in there. Perhaps he was being irrational again, but allowing Elle entrance seemed traitorous in some way. He had promised himself that he wouldn't let Claire's efforts with him be in vain, but he had never promised anything about forgetting her or contaminating her memory.

"Okay?" Elle released the curtain, her wrist twitching in a motion for him to let go. Gabriel held onto her for a second more before dropping his grip as well.

_She didn't mean anything by it. _He blinked twice, losing his focus. There had been the smallest flash of fear behind her crystal blue eyes that had sparked the predator within. An emptiness inside of himself was stirring, boiling to be filled, but he choked it back. _She couldn't have known. Don't be crazy. _"I'm sorry. I, um, I'll go get dinner." Gabriel turned to the kitchen with more haste than necessary, rolling the Sylar watch over his wrist as he went. "I made a chicken alfredo. It's my mother's recipe. You'll love it."

Their dinner had been shared on the floor of the living room since his recent bout of furniture loss had left them with little else in the way of alternatives. Surprisingly, Elle hadn't seemed to mind at all. She sat with her legs crossed at his side quite contentedly as if used to similar experiences. Afterwards they hadn't wasted much time before devouring the majority of the pie that she had brought. Elle watched him consume what must have been four slices of the sugary treat by himself with a happy little smile on her lips. And the confection was delicious, though he secretly suspected that she had bought it from a store rather than made it on her own. Conversation had been light in spite of her multiple attempts to bring up abilities. Gabriel subtly side stepped most of her questions still unsure of what to think of her. Elle was a quirky individual for sure, and mostly likable, certainly cute, but that nagging sensation continued to urge him to be careful around her as if some unseen danger lay in wait.

"I can't believe that you just lift your fingers and move things. That must feel amazing."

"It does. But it can be overwhelming too. Like a drug that you can't get enough of."

"How many others are there like you?"

"With abilities? I don't know." _She's prying again… Don't over analyze this. You asked Claire the same things. And look how that turned out for us, _he fired back at himself internally. _Be honest._ "To be honest I don't want to know." _Liar._ "I have a kind of problem. I guess you could say I'm like an addict. I this overwhelming hunger to…" _Rip out the abilities of others._ "I covet the powers of others." Elle looked on as he attempted to explain himself with false rapt attention. Gabriel felt his turmoil slip away just a touch more. She knew something. A lot more than she was letting on. Everything was falling into place far too easily to be from natural causes. He remembered the day that he had gone to see the chameleon girl and how he had managed to slide himself next to her in order to do the same kind of prying that Elle was. _If all else fails - turn on the charm. Worse case scenario - she keeps liking you._

Gabriel lit her up with a timid smile that brought another tinge of pink to her pale cheeks. "But somehow since the other day, since… Since meeting you, I feel like maybe I don't have to be so special. Maybe I can just be Gabriel again."

"But you are special, Gabriel. You're special just the way you are." Her hand came to rest on top of his, curling her fingers around to hold it. A shiver ran up the inside of his arm, sending the hairs to stand on end like he had gotten a little too close to a hot electrical wire.

Elle looked down at the way their hands were still joined and slowly back up at him. He quirked his head to the side, reading her, taking in the dilation of her pupils and a sudden jump in her pulse. Her body temperature rose a tenth of a degree and her tongue flicked out to moisten her pink lips. She was leaning in towards him a fraction at a time and he was so busy studying his new book that while he had been seeing it happen, it hadn't entirely registered in his brain that she meant to kiss him until her top lip barely grazed his. The unexpected contact sent him jumping backwards from her reach where his free hand made contact with the carpet and picked up a stinging static shock.

"Ouch," he hissed in surprise, yanking his hand free of hers to shake the other around as though it would help.

"Sorry," she whispered under her breath out of pure habit.

"Elle, I, um. Please, don't be offended. I'm flattered, really. I, uh, I just got out of this relationship that was pretty serious though and I don't know if I'm ready for _that_… yet."

"It's okay," she smiled, slightly embarrassed again. "I just got out of this _really_ messy relationship too." Gabriel smiled to encourage her to keep going. "Adam. He was my first big crush. I was after him for years and then one day I guess he decided he wanted me too." Her bottom lip puckered into a pout at the memory. "And then of course, after we went _there_, he got really mean. He would call me names and say horrible things to me trying to push me away."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's all in the past. And he's kind of in jail so it's not like he can hurt me anymore if I don't want him to." Gabriel's eyebrows shot up at the mention of her ex being in jail, but he was reasonably quelled when she asked him what his girlfriend had been like.

"Claire. She was… beautiful. And smart. And funny. And a little crazy," he laughed. "But she was…" Gabriel drifted off, his eyes roaming to space where she had danced around to the music on his record player, and where she had accidentally stuck a pancake to the ceiling while trying to flip it like she had seen on television, the spot where they had watched the sun rise after spending all night talking about everything that never mattered, and where he had decided to _not_ let her win at wrestling when she had stolen his favorite shirt and tried to run away with it. Every inch of the apartment felt smothered in Claire. From the kitchen where they had argued over whether smooth or crunchy peanut butter was better to the bathroom where they had made a semi-regular habit of lazy bubble baths and steaming showers, and the bedroom where he had spent some of the best nights of his life simply being comfortable with her head on his shoulder and one of her thighs slung over his hip. "Saturating."

* * *

><p>"Special just the way the you are," Noah mocked as Elle approached the Primatech van that he was leaning against. "I was afraid you were about to burst into song."<p>

"I was just trying to win his trust."

"Well, we're stalling out here. We need to kick it into high gear."

"I don't think he's going to kill again. I really think we should look into someone else on this list," she said as she pulled out the wadded up ball of paper that she had fetched from Gabriel's trash.

"No. We're sticking with the plan," Bennet fervently insisted. "Mr. Gray _is_ a killer. We _know_ that. The only question is will we witness the act or will he do it in a dark alley somewhere?"

"What if you're wrong? What if his suicide attempt was a wake up call?"

Noah paused in the act of opening the van door for her. A sly smile crossed his features as he latched onto something he had heard in the tone of her voice. "Ah, you like this guy." When Elle turned her back to him in humiliation he was only egged further on. When he wanted something, Noah was never afraid to yank the puppet strings, or burn them off with a blow torch. Whichever seemed more appropriate at the time.

"Oh, isn't that adorable…" Bennet rounded on Elle, invading her personal space to make his attack that much more unsettling. "You think he's sweet. Is that it?" He took the list from her hand and skimmed over it for a second. "How about this one, Trevor Zeitlan?"

Bishop looked up at him in abstract horror when she connected what he wanted her to do. "I'm not going to do it."

"We _need_ to see him kill."

"I am _not_ going to do it!"

"Alright. If that's how you feel," he tossed all too nonchalantly over his shoulder on the way to the back of the van. Noah grabbed her personal belongings and tossed them at her. "Here. Go ahead. Go on. New York City! You could, I don't know, become a waitress?" He was openly mocking her again. Elle had never been on her own before. She hadn't even stepped foot outside of the Company for sixteen years of her life, and he knew that. Without their support she would never survive.

"You have orders, Elle. If you don't follow orders you're not an agent. If you're not an agent you're on your own." It was the only threat that he knew could terrify the girl to the core, and he was a merciless puppet master indeed. Bishop was already putty in his hands. She just didn't know it yet. "Your father has been training you for this since you were four years old. Come on, let's introduce Mr. Zeitlan to Mr. Gray."

_Seems that I was right after all. _Gabriel hadn't been able to keep from following his instincts about Elle when he had entered the kitchen again to throw away the paper plates they used for her pie and noticed the list he had thrown curiously missing. After she had said goodbye and left the apartment he had carefully counted out a twenty second lead for her before trailing along behind and out of sight. As he lurked around the corner from where the Primatech van was pulling away a vicious sneer marred his mouth. _You're getting a little sloppy, Bennet._

And then a plan started to form.

**To be continued...**


	29. Chapter 29

_April 29, 2006_

Gabriel leaned into the cracked piece of mirror, stretching the skin of his jaw for a closer shave. He wanted to be exceptionally well groomed for his very _special_ date with Elle. Bringing the straight blade swooping around the curve of his chin mingled more of the white shaving cream with the oxidizing blood that caked around the end of the razor and down its handle in an odd brownish orange that he didn't quite have a name for.

Remnants of the bathroom mirror that he had broken were deeply embedded all around him in the walls of the annex room, twinkling with what light they could catch like slivers of stars. Blood dripped from his elbow to _pit pat _on the dusty floor at his feet, trickling in swirling lines from where Claire's name had been carved into the flesh of his inner arm. Only thin lines. Shallow cuts. After all, he wasn't _completely_ insane. It wouldn't do at all for his best laid plans to be ruined on account of blood loss or tendon damage.

Patting his face dry when he was finished, Gabriel turned from the wall where his board of ability information had been resurrected, adorned with pictures of the perky cheerleader at the edges, and grasped one of the shirts that she had last worn in his hands from atop the pile of boxes that it rested on. He was careful not to ruin the delicate fabric with his blood as he lifted it to his face, inhaling a deep breath of the scent that was locked in the fibers. The smooth texture of cashmere was soft to the touch of his skin allowing him to believe for a fraction of a second that she could be there with him again.

All of her things had been packed away into the corners of the room so that not a single trace of her was left outside it. Gabriel had spent hours perched on the edge of the bed staring at what all had belonged to her in the bedroom before he had been able to bring himself to pick up for the last time. He didn't want to bare the thought of her things being thrown away like garbage though after he was gone. At least within the confines of the annex she would be safe, if in memory alone.

With a heavy sigh he replaced the shirt and closed the box that it belonged in. He quirked his head to the side studying the blood that remained damp on his arm and drew his stained finger through it to paint what was left on the wall. Gabriel had never repented for a sin he was _about_ to commit before, but the nonsensical whim granted him enough absolution to bring on an eerie calm that could only prove beneficial for the finer control of his ability. Exiting the space, he wished a farewell to his Claire and left the blotched series of prayers for forgiveness behind.

Gabriel thumbed through his wardrobe for a few minutes before settling on the black collared shirt. Claire had liked that shirt. He pulled it on with the pair of black jeans that he had bought to wear home after taking Brian Davis's life. He looked like he was going to a funeral. And maybe he was.

The Company seemed to prefer a hands-off approach, he thought as he pulled the bottle of Pinot that he had originally purchased to share with Claire from the cabinet. They were content to watch from afar, snapping their pictures and placing spies in the lives of their targets. Gabriel tapped on the side of the syringe that he had loaded with rophenol bought disturbingly easily from a dark street corner a few blocks away and slammed the needle into the bottle's cork so that the drug could enter the alcohol without trace of it having been opened before. Judging from what had happened with Claire though, it seemed that they were not above ambush and kidnapping tactics should the need present itself. He slid the needle free of the cork and dropped it in the trash beneath a wad of dirty paper towels and duct tape used for polishing his fingerprints away from the apartment.

After having witnessed Elle, first speaking with Noah Bennet, and then jumping into the passenger seat of the Primatech van with him, not a hint of involuntary involvement about it, plots had started spinning dangerously. It became rather obvious that whatever organization had come for him, had chosen her specifically as a replacement for Claire. Gabriel lifted the wine bottle up to the light with a little shake action before placing it in ice to chill. They had very nearly succeeded. He took a deep breath to suppress the turbulent spasm of hatred that erupted with the thought. If their patterns of action held, Gabriel predicted that once the Company finally felt they were in position to take him, they would. That assumption was the adhesive binding his plan together. He was growing rather tired of the cat and mouse games interrupting the solace of what should have been a respectable grieving period. So, if he couldn't get Mohammed to come to the mountain, he would bring the mountain to Mohammed. By drugging Elle, and for all intensive purposes holding her hostage, he would force their move. When Bennet came to take him away he would be granted an all-access pass to the people responsible for Claire's disappearance.

* * *

><p>"This ziti smells terrific!" Elle called out from the kitchen. Her voice carried with it a false note of glee in the anxiety that had been haunting her aura all night. Gabriel couldn't know for sure what was on her mind, but every flinch of her skin from contact with his and the nervous flitting of her eyes when she wouldn't make direct contact told him that she was expecting something… <em>unpleasant<em>. That in itself was information enough. Perhaps Primatech would be making their move soon, and so would he.

_I'm sure it does. Mother's recipes always do. _"Can't wait." A sinister smile full of dark intentions curled in the corners of his mouth as he skimmed over the label of the Pinot that he had bought for Claire. How suiting that Claire's gift should be Elle's folly.

"Hey, have you ever been to that little theatre down the street?" Elle's voice drifted closer to him with her approach as he popped the cork on the bottle. "I saw they had some sort of artsy spoken word thing there tonight."

"Maybe we should stop by later." _If there is a later… _Gabriel stooped down to take a whiff of the dish she held aloft for his approval. He greedily indulged in the herb tinged scent for a moment. It had been one of his favorites as a child and had been deemed satisfactory for what he expected to be his last meal.

"Maybe we should." Irregularly wrapping knuckles signaled the arrival of an unexpected guest. Elle jumped slightly at the sound but she flashed him a smile of relieved tension on the way to answer the door. "Oh, I invited someone to join us. I hope you don't mind." _Bennet must be getting desperate. _True enough Gabriel had been anticipating a move on the Company's part, but he hadn't guessed that it would come _that_ soon. He was mildly irritated with himself for not being prepared, again, but the plan had already been set in motion, and it was too little too late to back down. _Game on._

She disappeared back into the kitchen, calling to whomever waited on the other side, "It's open."

"Yeah, uh, I'm Trevor. We spoke on the phone?" Noah watched Zeitlan introduce himself over the apartment's video feed. Had he not been so invested in the capture of his daughter's defiler he might have felt a pang of sympathy for the young man. Trevor was a tender chicken that had just wandered into the wolf's den, unaware of the dangers that surrounded him in the guise of a pretty girl and an unassuming watchmaker. A pawn to sacrifice on his way to a check-mate. _The ball is in your court now. Game on, Gabriel._

"I'm Elle. And, um, this is Gabriel," Elle beamed, leading the goth into the living room with her. His senses immediately picked up on the air of an ability, something more than ordinary lurking beneath the surface. An empty space presented itself inside of him and begged to be filled. The hunger had returned. Gabriel needed to be sated. _Control yourself. _He bit down on the end of his tongue to keep the craving that was raking away at his insides in check. "I thought you two should meet. Trevor has an ability too."

"An ability? I don't understand." Gabriel didn't even need to lie. His thought processes were violently turning over one another faster than he could keep track of them.

"Don't be mad, but I got Trevor's number off that list you had. I really think it's important for you to get to know people like yourself. I mean, alcoholics can't do it alone." And then it clicked. Gabriel flickered his gaze back and forth between Elle and Trevor, his capacity for understanding shrieking that he had been played. He had been ready to bait Primatech with Elle. He had been ready for an attack, or to be ambushed and dragged to a waiting van somewhere that would cart him away. But he had never expected the tables to be turned with such a cruel twist. There would be no move by Primatech as he had thought. Trevor _was_ their move. Gabriel had been the one to be baited. _Well played, Bennet, you son of a bitch._

"Trevor, why don't you… show us what you can do."

"Okay." Trevor looked around the living room for a second for something to use before settling his sights on one of the glasses that Gabriel had set out for the Pinot. He extended his arm towards it, forming his hand into a mock pistol and aimed. Gabriel instinctively moved out of his way, his insatiable curiosity holding him captive for what was about to happen. And then the glass shattered.

_Remember your emotions. Push them away. Control yourself. _But it was too late. Heat surged through his veins like hellfire, his stomach churning with acid and his muscles coiling to strike all on their own. _Control yourself. _And then another glass that had been sitting next to the broken one shattered as well with the power to steal the breath from his lungs. _Control yourself!_

"That is so cool. Gabriel?" He rigidly turned to see Elle grinning like a smitten teenager. "Isn't that _special_? Wait here. I have a great idea." She skipped off into the kitchen, bringing a handful of more glasses with her return. "Isn't this fun, Gabriel?" _Fun isn't the word I would use. _Every last ounce of self control that he possessed was pitted against one of his most basic instincts. Just to keep from looking at the kid that she was dangling in front of him like a juicy morsel was enough to pin the air in chest so that he couldn't breathe.

"Oh! I love that!" Elle declared as more glasses were shattered directly in front of him in a method of cruel and unusual torture. "Don't you love that?"

"That's great," he grit out.

"It's _so_ special. Let's see it again!" And then he broke. Gabriel whirled around to see Elle clutching the arm of one smugly smiling Trevor. The kid must have thought that he'd won himself a prize in Gabriel's date because it wouldn't have taken anyone with his observational skills to detect the braver front of macho posturing coming from him. The hunger roared for a fix, snapping his brittle control like a rubber band that had been stretched too far and sent to fly off in a dozen different directions. He just couldn't take any more.

"You think he's so _special_?" _I'll show you special. _"I bet he can't do this!" With a wave of his hand Trevor flew into the bookcase with a pained cry.

"Gabriel…"

He ignored her plea, focusing instead on the control he held over the kid tacked to the wall. He was mildly surprised by the strength that he had gained as he was able to hold the weight of a grown male in complete control. Trevor struggled to free his hands and fight back but all of his efforts were in vain. He wasn't half as powerful as Gabriel… a sensation that he had to actively concentrate on _not_ enjoying.

The hungry eyes of Sylar rolled back on Elle, blazing with fury. _I said that I would give you the chance Claire never had. _"I think you need to leave, _now_." Mental faculties were redirected to the new subject, deducing and reducing his internal machinations, reasoning out what it was that made him… _tick_.

"Gabriel, don't!" A brilliant flash of blue caught the corner of his eye as an arch of electricity knocked him off his feet. Trevor dropped to the floor with a _thud_ while Gabriel's concentration was broken. The muscles in his arms, chest and stomach jumped and twitched of their own accord while every fine hair on his body stood on end in the charged atmosphere. He had never tried to stab an electrical box with a screwdriver, but he imagined the feeling of electrocution to be comparable. "Please…"

"How did you?" Suddenly the hunger had locked onto a secondary target.

"You don't have to do this," Elle implored with the writhing darkness lurking in the depths of his blackened eyes.

"You have no idea what I need to do," Gabriel growled at her. An abrupt shove at the material of space surrounding her sent a shockwave rippling in her direction with the power to blow her back to where she slammed against the refrigerator and fell to the tile floor. "But you're about to find out. Now get out!" Elle didn't have to be told again. She scrambled to her feet and bolted out the door for her life. She may have been a more comparable foe than Trevor had presented, but she wasn't stupid enough to gamble on those odds.

"Check-mate," Noah whispered to the screen that captured all the proof he needed to bring the killer in.

He couldn't tell how long he had been there crouched over the body as he was. The span of time it had taken to procure and adopt Zeitlan's ability was lost to an irrelevant haze of frantic blood lust. Guilt was there, sharp and brutal, piercing his heart as he gazed down on Trevor's lifeless shell with the hollowed out skull. Oddly enough though, as terrible as he felt for what he had done, it didn't come with the same level of agonizing clarity that the first time had. It was… an _imperative_. In death Trevor served a higher purpose. He was justified in the act of the taking the ability because he could use it in ways that the kid had never thought of. Instead of wasting such a talent on shattering glasses he would exercise it in a more righteous cause. Like taking down Primatech.

Gabriel lifted his arm, feeling points arise in the material of space. Forming his hand into the same mock pistol that Trevor had he focused on one of those shining points, and pulled the trigger, sensing the origin shatter. _You're move, Noah._

He didn't bother stopping to wash up. Gabriel left his apartment and walked calmly out into the street where Bennet and Bishop were waiting as if nothing had happened. Blood slicked hands, spattered clothes and all. A deranged laugh escaped him as Noah came around to put him in handcuffs that echoed into the night and chilled the blood of casual passerby. Even after Elle had shocked him into unconsciousness the smile remained on his face. Gabriel peacefully dreamt about Trojan horses as his body was loaded into the van and taken to Primatech.

**To be continued...**


	30. Thou Shall Not Fall: Part I

**Finally getting to the chapters ****that this song inspired****, yay!**_  
><em>

_"Cry little sister. Thou shall not fall._

_Come to your brother. Thou shall not die._

_Unchain me, sister. Thou shall not fear._

_Love is with your brother. Thou shall not kill."_

**Cry Little Sister (Aiden version)**

* * *

><p><em>April 30, 2006<em>

A bloodcurdling scream could be heard echoing down the sterile halls. "How does it feel, Gabriel? Being carved apart?" Noah inquired softly in spite of the sardonic grin adorning his lips and the gleam of the scalpel he held aloft.

"I don't know," he stammered in between ragged gasps for air. "Why don't you ask him?"

"Now, now, Mr. Gray," Bennet clucked his tongue in disapproval, the shine of the overheard fluorescents glinting off of his glasses onto the subject's sweat beaded brow. "This is no time to be smart." He leaned in until their faces were mere inches apart. "I'm really curious, Gabriel. What does it feel like to be cut open? What does it feel like to be on the other end of what you've done to poor Mr. Zeitlan and Mr. Davis? What does it _feel _like to experience what you've done to Claire?"

"I never hurt Claire."

"Really?" Noah leaned away with another sinister grin and disappeared from his limited range of sight. Another picture was placed on the projector that spot lighted the ceiling for his viewing convenience. It was an image of Claire with her arms curled around her knees and her face resting behind their protection. He could tell by the flushed puffiness of the parts of her face that were exposed that she had been crying for some time before the photo had been taken. A bloody line was drawn over the length of her forehead. He couldn't shy away from the image with his head strapped to the table as it were so he clamped his eyes shut tightly enough for multi-colored spots to float behind the lids.

"Oh, no, Mr. Gray, you're not getting out of this _that_ easy." Rough fingers probed his eyes and forced them open so that he had to stare at the broken Claire above him until his eyes stung from the hot tears that warded away dryness. "So tell me, Gabriel, what _does_ it feel like?"

"You killed Gabriel Gray," he laughed without humor. "He doesn't exist anymore."

"Gabriel…"

"My name is Sylar!" The technician hovering at the edge of his peripheral view jumped at the intensity of his shout but the master of cool never betrayed a muscle twitch. Sylar coughed up a blood clot and mustered the strength to spit in Bennet's face, and still, he remained the uniformed Company man.

"Mr. Bennet," the technician spoke up, "I have to sedate this patient. It's protocol." She approached to nearly be within reaching distance, retrieving a syringe of clear liquid from the pocket of her white lab coat.

"No," Noah objected. "I want this one to know exactly what's happening to him every step of the way." He waved her off and the timid woman shuddered at the sight of him picking the scalpel back up before she disappeared from view. "I think Mr. Gray is ready to have another skin sample taken."

Sylar had woken up strapped down to the steel surgical table that he had continued to occupy for the last sixteen hours. His arms had been restrained to his sides by thick leather straps cinched tight enough to cut off the blood flow so that his extremities had gone numb. The same treatment had been done to his legs with another belt looped around his waist. Sensory cables were attached to his scalp and chest feeding vital information to the bank of computers that rested off to the side. Two IV bags were set to drip on the other side, one he suspected was a standard mix of saline solution to keep him hydrated throughout the extensive testing process, and the other he couldn't be sure of as it was darker in appearance and vaguely resembled muddy water. His clothing had been stripped off before he had regained consciousness and been replaced with a paper thin pair of white pajama bottoms.

Bennet had done his best to break Sylar down, utilizing various methods of torture from water boarding to a middle eastern tactic that involved precision tapping on the nerves of the feet to simply taking pleasure in repeatedly punching him in the face until both of his eyes were blacked and the split in his lip widened with every grimace of pain. He had the temperature of the room turned down to just above freezing so that Sylar's body trembled uncontrollably, his fingers, toes, and lips turning a dangerous shade of blue. Taunting him with pictures of Davis and Zeitlan, before as well as after their deaths, telling him stories about their families that would miss them, attempting to provoke an emotional response or maybe just a plea for mercy. And then there had come the scalpel.

Noah had been moderately amused by the cutting of Claire's name into his arm and had decided that he must have enjoyed the experience of his flesh being sliced so much that he needed some more. Incisions of varying lengths and depths decorated the expanse of his body, the blood that oozed from the wounds allowed to congeal and dry on the skin or beneath him on the table until he felt like he could scratch his epidermis completely off if given the chance. But every cut, every drag of the razor sharp blade was controlled so that he felt the full extent of the pain without succumbing to trauma or blood loss. And there was a grim pause in time between each and every one where Noah would look down on him, watching the scalpel hover over its next area of attack, and knowing what was coming. He had never been so exhausted in all of his life, but Bennet would wait until his eyes were nearly closed and then stab the end of his weapon of choice underneath a finger or toe nail so that he couldn't get a second's worth of rest.

Noah chuckled darkly at the strained expression on Sylar's face as he carved a smiling face into the space over his left kidney, a thin line of blood escaping from of the corner of his mouth as he bit into his lip to keep from screaming again. "Speaking of Claire…" He waited for Sylar to open his eyes again knowing the mention of her name would draw his attention. "Did you decide to push her off the roof before or _after_ she told you she was pregnant with your son?"

"A boy?" Noah gave him that shark's smile again and he knew he was being baited. But there was nothing that the agent could do to him that could possibly hurt more than knowing he had lost his son. On the other hand, the set of iron knuckles that were driven into his side where the smiling face had been drawn came fairly close, simultaneously forcing him to scream again and sucking the air from his already haggard lungs.

Bennet tossed his scalpel to the side and leaned back down to invade Sylar's personal space again. With their noses almost touching and his hot breath fanning over his victim's face Noah thought up another round of taunts. "She was in on it the whole time you know. Claire?" He laughed vindictively. "It was her idea in the first place to come after you. We didn't even know you existed until she fed you to us."

Claire it seemed was one part of his life that they could reliably use against him. However placid on the surface he meditated himself to be, she always struck a nerve. "Fuck you!" Sylar made a show of struggling in his restraints and Noah just laughed harder. Until another heavy handed blow landed in the same spot as the last.

"Oh, yes, Gabriel. My Claire Bear wanted nothing more than to put a pretty little bullet right between your eyes." Sylar coughed and wheezed some more, spitting a fine spray of blood from his mouth. "She knew that you would never be anything but a pathetic nobody that had to steal the powers of others to be _special_. You actually have me to thank for being alive today because she would have killed you dead a long time ago." He twisted his head as far to the side as he could to shy away from the cruel words so Noah just came closer to whisper in his ear. "She used you, Gabriel. Manipulated you. Lied to you. You were just a shiny new toy to play with… And then you killed her for it!" he shouted into his ear.

Pulling back to admire his handy work, Noah slipped another shark's grin for the tear that rolled down his subject's temple to disappear into his hair line. "How about we take a little break, Mr. Gray? I wouldn't want you to get too tired to enjoy our fun together." Bennet shrugged back into the suit jacket that he had draped over the back of a chair and moved to leave the room, clicking off the light as he opened the door. "Why don't you spend a little time reflecting on how Claire never loved you. Not that it was her fault really. No one could ever love someone like you, Gabriel. I don't think there's even anyone left to notice that you're gone." He muttered something to the tune of '_sweet dreams' _before he exited, closing the door behind him and plunging Gabriel into darkness that was only broken by the dim glow of computer screens running in the background.

"I never thought he'd shut up," he muttered to himself under his breath. "Arrogant jackass." Sylar worked at turning his head a little more to the side against the strap so that he could see the tubes leading into his arm. It took him a few minutes to gain enough motor control over his fingers again to twitch them on command, but once he did the tubes jumped out of his skin and the leather straps binding him in place flew off the table. The water boarding that he had been subjected to was almost more comfortable than waiting for the sensation of white-hot pins and needles to subside as regular blood flow returned to his body. _Not the best idea I've ever had, _he laughed internally. He felt like a breathing mass of bruised hamburger that had been splattered over the New York pavement by rush hour traffic and then collected for the creation of a pin cushion.

Thankfully the lab technicians working the room where he had been placed had underestimated him somewhat. They had either never attempted to test what someone with telekinetic ability could do with an IV, or they had never had one smart and, or crazy enough to try what he had. The bag containing the substance that resembled the muddy water had just been hung when he was coming around to the waking world and he had been cognizant for its placement. Once it had been allowed to drip freely for a few minutes he had started feeling a strange, almost existential weakness start to come over him. Deducing that the liquid was some form of ability suppressant he had immediately set his concentration on stopping the flow of fluid about where it was meant to enter the vein before he lost his powers completely. To the casual observer he seemed to be under the effects of the medication and Noah, being so hell bent on cracking him had never paid attention. All he had to do was maintain that fragile line of resistance through more than half a day of a excruciating mental, emotional, and most importantly _physical _torture until Noah left to eat or use the bathroom or shoot at people, whatever it was that he did in his spare time. He would have patted himself on the back in victory had he not been sure that the motion would result in acute pain. _If I'm lucky I'll die so I won't have to feel this in the morning._

Sylar slid off the table once he thought that he could keep his balance and crept to the door. Poking his head out to make sure that no one was passing by, he prowled out into the hall in search of well deserved vengeance.

* * *

><p>Her bleary eyes blinked in unfocused confusion at the overhead lights that shone so brightly down on her. <em>Where am I? This isn't home. <em>"Gabriel?" she rasped weakly from a dry throat. _What happened… Where is he? _Claire's stirring steadily grew more alert until she registered the astringent scent of antiseptics and the presence of people around her. Her memories were a little foggy at first but gently came back to her. She had been on the roof and… jumped over the side… Because of Gabriel. The hand holding hers moved and she jumped to a sitting position in panic.

The room she was in appeared like one in a hospital or private clinic with sterile white walls and shiny tile floors. Her bed was an adjustable one poised in a half inclined position so that she could look around and she felt like she had been sleeping for ages. There was a harsh crick in her spine that popped when her body decided that it was time to stretch and yawn of its own volition. On one side the Haitian was perched tensely in a chair, his being the warm hand that she had felt, and which he had politely dropped upon noticing her waking status. In the opposite chair was Angela with an all too casual smile on her thin lips like a cat that had caught a canary.

"Gabriel!" Claire cried out. "He's - he's Sylar! He killed Brian Davis -"

"We already know, dear."

"I have to stop him." Claire hopped out of her bed and almost tripped over her own feet. Her center of balance felt out of whack and… _what the hell is that_? She glanced down at her stomach, being covered by a rather thin hospital gown. She had known that she was gaining some weight, but… Her hands felt around the rounding bump of her midsection, mystified by the sudden and oddly firm bulge.

"Congratulations, dear, it's a boy."

Claire's jaw dropped as she looked back to Angela. "You've got to be shitting me."

"Now, Claire, that's no language for a young mother to be using." Her grandmother slid out of her chair with all the charisma of a toxin loaded cobra and brought her hand to rest over the burgeoning growth as well. "He's perfectly healthy."

"Angela," she started slowly and enunciating every nervous syllable. "How long have I been here?"

"Almost two weeks. Twelve days to be exact."

"And where's Gabriel?"

"He's here."

"Here as in…?"

"Primatech. Your father brought him in last night after he killed Mr. Zeitlan. What do you think about using yellow for a nursery color? I know that it's traditional for boys to have blue, but -"

"Angela?"

"Hmm?"

"What the fu-?" Her grandmother brought her finger to rest over her mouth for silence before she could finish asking what was going on.

"Language, Claire. The baby can hear you."

Claire snapped at her finger with her teeth to get the offending appendage away. "You've plotted to destroy the world how many times now? And you're worried about my _language_?" She whirled around on the Haitian and snatched the Company standard issue pistol from his holster, dropping the magazine to make sure that it was loaded.

"Claire…"

"I don't have time for this shi-tuff," she tossed over her shoulder as she rooted around for some kind of real clothing to put on. Somehow the thought of facing Sylar with the crack of her ass exposed to the world didn't seem amusing. "I have lives to save and an ex-boyfriend to kill."

"Claire." She looked back at the older woman to see a set of clothes waiting in her outstretched hands.

"You're not going to try and stop me?"

"I hadn't even dreamt of it," she smiled again with a hidden agenda. Glancing down at her watch she also added that, "Fortunately for you and Mr. Gray, we have some unfinished business to attend to with your grandfather and we're on a bit of a timeframe."

Claire yanked the clothes into her possession, noting that the oversized black articles must have belonged to Gabriel with their dimensions, familiar scent, and she hung her head for the blood spatters on the sleeves. The pant legs had to be rolled up multiple times but with her enlarging waist size they were nearly right at the hip. She rolled the sleeves of the shirt over as well for function, but was happy to let the rest hang about freely. There were more pressing matters than fashion in that particular moment.

A gleam of silver caught her eye and she looked up to find Angela dangling the watch necklace that Gabriel had given her in a gentle swaying motion. Claire took the piece, fingering the inscription on the back before flipping it over and seeing that the time had been changed from the original setting. "Don't forget to tell him that you love him."

She jammed her acquired gun into the waistband of the jeans and stormed out of the room into the abandoned halls of Primatech. Claire fiddled with the dials on the watch face until the little hands had turned from 11:53 back to the 3:51 that they belonged at and looped the pendant around her neck, stuffing the chain beneath her shirt for protection.

"And Claire…" she heard Angela call out one more time from behind her. _How's this for something that the baby won't hear? _Petrelli scoffed and waved away the crude hand gesture that her granddaughter had carelessly flung over her retreating shoulder. The lights of the hall flickered and dimmed for a second before the hum of electricity came to a still and they began to systematically shut off one at a time plunging the building into darkness. "He won't follow you if he doesn't believe that you love him."

**To be continued...**


	31. Thou Shall Not Fall: Part II

**I know that cannon says Sylar picked up his freezing ability from James Walker, but honestly I never believed that. Walker was frozen solid in mid-bite of his food. If Sylar had gotten freezing from him, his body would not have been positioned like that. So, because this is fic land and I can, I've changed that little detail around. I always figured that if Walker actually had an ability (and it wasn't a case of mistaken identity for his daughter) then he must have had one that could have been a threat to Sylar so he froze him in place before attacking. But that's just me.**

* * *

><p><em>April 30, 2006<em>

Shrill screams of terror floated down the halls after her. There was an ungodly banshee's howl of screeching metal that seemed to come from all around her followed by a loud crashing sound and she pushed herself harder. "Elle…" He was getting closer, the low vibrato of his voice a sweet, melancholy taunt in the darkness. "Come out, come out, wherever you are…" Something small and slender grazed past her shoulder, buzzing by her ear and whipping through her hair with its proximity. Elle turned on her heel to send an arch of blue lightning into the abyss of shadows where she had come from, stumbling into the corner of the corridor. Her eyes met level with a pencil jutting out from the wall having been perfectly imbedded in it like a piece of straw driven through the trunk of a tree during an intense storm. Tiny whispers of breeze answered her counterattack as one by one more common desk utensils were darted into the wall around her figure followed by the cracked laughter of a mad man.

Her shoes squeaked on the tile as she launched herself away from becoming impromptu target practice. To anyone that hadn't spent the majority of their life within the confines of Primatech being lost in the dark would be a horrifying task of finding themselves in the chaotic maze of tunnels and side passages that lead around some of the powerful monsters the world had ever known. But for her, sixteen years of practice were becoming a vast advantage in the game of survival. Elle ran for her life through the pitch black without any need to even keep her arms ahead of her for guidance, sliding one direction and then another, her feet pounding the floor barely above the thundering of her own heart in her ears until the haunting red glow of an emergency back up light announced the haven of the Level One detainment quarter.

Another shriek of pain echoed in her wake as she barged through the door of the first cell she came to, rounding about to slam it shut behind her. Two frantic heart beats passed as she rested with her back against the door before a stirring inside the cell caused her to stifle a breathless whimper. The cell's occupant stretched on his bed, scratching himself as he raised a sleep tussled head.

"Oh, bloody hell. I told you it was only one time," Adam groused when he figured out who his late night visitor was after a few blinks. "It had been twenty-five years. I was weak!"

She hissed at him for quiet, butting her finger up against her lips even though he may not have been able to see the motion. Shouting passed by the entrance to the cell, funneling down another hallway where gun shots were fired. Adam became instantly aware of his surroundings at the violent ruckus. He slid from his mattress and padded over to her side, pressing his ear against the door and holding his breath in curiosity. The absent hum of energy throughout the building tipped a mischievous smile on his lips in spite of the nightmares occurring on the outside.

Monroe flipped the handle on the door to his cage, delighted when he encountered no resistance other than the frightened girl running sparks of static over his arm as she tried to hold him back, and took a bold step towards freedom. Elle covered her ears to ward away the screeching of more metal. Adam ventured out another step, peering down the hall in all directions for anyone that might halt his progress and then had to abruptly duck out of the way for a body that came flying out from the shadows. The fleshy projectile smacked into the cell's wall with a wet crunching sound. A ball of flame sizzled by his face as he stood back up. "Now that was just rude!"

Elle tried not to listen to scuffle that broke out when Adam disappeared into the darkness. She didn't have to try for long. Less than a minute later a rather dazed and disgruntled Adam was thrown back into his cell to land on top of the first body after a similar collision. "Right then. Now that that's settled…"

* * *

><p>Piercing silence whistled in her ears as she crept down the hall, one set of fingers keeping a guiding line along the wall, the other gripping the Haitian's pistol tightly at her side. Claire had followed the screams at first, but not even her historically haunted imagination had been able to conjure the grisly sights that she had encountered. She had found a series of rooms that must have served as some sort of preliminary examination center, filled with medical slabs, stores of miscellaneous bottles of pills and vials of fluids with names on their neatly printed labels that she couldn't pronounce, and banks of computer monitoring equipment. One of the rooms housed the limp body of a female lab technician on its table. Her form had been decorated with countless slash marks, her pale hand continuing to hold a bloodied scalpel in the grips of muscles that had been clenched in fierce pain before death. Beyond that, deep gouges had been carved into the sterile white walls of the corridor down to a corner office. Inside was another body curled over a ransacked desk with the throat slit. Blood slowly dribbled onto the carpet one drop at a time as the pool of origin cooled in the absence of common utensil supplies from emptied drawers. The door at the end of that hall had been left ajar, the electronic locking mechanism on the side having been burst apart to expose the live wires within. Doors pocked with splintered bullet holes had been torn off their hinges and hurled to rest on top of the broken bodies of agents. Another agent was tacked to the ceiling, practically nailed there by groups of ball-point pens riveted through bone into support beams.<p>

Wherever she followed the trail of destruction Claire was only lead deeper into the bowels of the building. There was no trace of doubt that Sylar was the source of the chaos, him being the only one that she knew capable of such single-handed disaster, but the obvious lack of any escape attempt was even more disturbing than the chill of stillness that had set on. It was out of character in a way that refused to make sense. Gabriel would have headed upward and outward, looking for freedom. Sylar would go anywhere motivation lead him, but to blaze such a candid path of evidence was illogical. He never blatantly advertised his whereabouts. What lay before her was an animal that she had never known before. One without a name or exit strategy that lashed out irrationally, his only goal to cause pain.

Muffled curses filtered out from the dark, nearly sending Claire free of her skin at the sudden sign of life. She rounded a bend that was dimly lit by a blood red emergency back up system and felt herself sprinting to the hazy beam of light that shot out from a side room before she could bring caution to mind. Noah Bennet held a flash light between his teeth as he fiddled with a security panel inside of a maintenance access inlet.

Claire was forced to stare down the ever ready barrel of his Company issue firearm before Noah let his quick draw rest. "Claire?" he garbled around the butt of the flash light before dropping it. "What are you doing awake?" He enveloped her in a bear hug the same as he had done since she was a small child though not as firmly with her expanding belly in mind. "I'd tell you to get out of here but I don't think that's an option anymore."

"Someone needs to tell me what the hel-ck happened." Claire saw the cool steel of the agent creep into his eyes as he looked down on her and she reaffirmed herself. "_Now_."

"We brought Sylar in for termination after he killed Trevor Zeitlan for his ability, but Angela said she wanted him tested before going through with the deal on mission failure. He escaped. And now…" Noah handed Claire his flash light and showed her where to point while he stripped the protective rubber insulation from a pair of wires in an attempt to fix their circuit, "he's out to kill us all. Fortunately Angela thought enough to give most of the employees the day off so we were running on minimal staff, but -" He cut himself off as he shocked himself and whipped his hand around with a barely restrained slew of swearing. "Sylar shattered most of the security locks and rewired them before he shut down the power grid. The whole place is locked down and we're trapped inside."

_I guess that explains why he didn't leave himself a way out. He wasn't planning on leaving._

"And just to make it a little more interesting, he also let half the detainees loose in the process."

"Paging Agent Bennet," crackled over the intercom. "Paging Agent Noah Bennet. Primatech ID number A007." A rumbling chuckle rolled out of the speakers. "I see you were born in 1962. You were married once before. Boring, boring, boring," papers could be heard shuffling past the static as Noah looked into Claire's confused eyes, his own hardening even as he swallowed thickly. "I didn't know you were a Shakespeare man, Noah. I would have pegged you for more of a Robert Ludlum kind of guy. Maybe even a Tom Clancy fan. Oh, look, a home address. I'm sure your wife, Sandra is just a lovely woman. I'd really like to meet her." More laughter peeled out to reverberate against the walls followed by a wistful sigh. "Done to death by slanderous tongue. Why then tonight let us assay our plot."

"He's in the records room." Her father had evaporated the instant their family was mentioned. In his wake was the man with the plan, hook, line and sinker. "Are you up for this, Claire?" Even in the dim light she saw him graze over her body warily.

"No one knows how dangerous Sylar can be more than me. I knew that this could happen someday. As much as I care about Gabriel…" She fought the fall of her chin, choosing instead to hold it high with proud resolve if only in image for her father. "He's gone now, and this is bigger than us." Two hammers were drawn back with a synchronized _click_ as the father, daughter duo set out to save their world.

They didn't find Sylar in the records room. A lone agent that had been caught up in their mistakes was strung up on the wall, his position that of one enduring a crucifixion, being pinned up by scissors and pencils like the others. Where his head fell loosely about his chest they were greeted with the stomach turning view of an emptied skull, the brain conspicuously absent. Scrawled off to the side was a message painted in blood.

"_I pray you, in your letters,_

_When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,_

_Speak of me as I am; nothing extentuate,_

_Nor set down aught in malice. Then you must speak_

_Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well;_

_Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought,_

_Perplex'd in the extreme…"_

"Othello," Noah mumbled. "It's his swan song. The musings of a twisted and delusional mind attempting to find reason in the murder of his wife."

"I don't understand. Why would he do this?"

Bennet rocked back on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets, a low sigh issued from a tensely set mouth. "He thinks you're dead, Claire." Their eyes met, her fury against his silent plea for understanding. "Angela's orders. She's been orchestrating every move we've made since you showed up. Making you wait to kill Sylar until you got to know him as Gabriel. Your," his eyes roamed once more to the bulge of her stomach being concealed by the oversized shirt in the darkness, "relationship with him. Probably even this." Noah fished out a small diamond ring from his pocket that he had taken from Sylar upon his arrival at Primatech.

"Othello believed that his wife had been unfaithful. What he didn't know was that he had been manipulated all along in Iago's power play. His dark side was drawn out by jealousy and vengeance." Noah handed Claire the engagement ring that she had never gotten the chance to see before. "We had to make him believe it."

"She planned this all along." The facets of the diamond caught the peripheral light to flash a twinkle across her face like a tiny star that she could hold in the palm of her hand. Claire glanced up from the shimmering ring through the tears that began to well in her eyes. "There was never any stopping it."

Noah opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the sight of something behind her. Claire saw the fringes of a shadowy figure moving beyond the range of view from the doorway. Her father drew his weapon, signaling with his free hand for her stay behind him as he inched towards the edge of frame. The hairs on the back of her neck rose with the hint of something all too familiar, her eyes darting about in the darkness and her skin tensed with every alert nerve for motion like prey aware of some looming predator. "No!" she cried out as her father peered out into the hallway in the direction of who or whatever had passed them by. But her warning came a fraction too late. Bennet was gripped by an invisible force and jerked out of sight - the door to the records office slamming shut behind him.

Gun shots fired from the other side of the barrier as Claire hurled herself at the door. She battered the edge of the door with her shoulder and finally cracked it open with a kick at the knob, Gabriel's engagement ring left forgotten on the floor of the office after having been dropped. Noah was gone by the time she lurched back into the open air of the hallway. One bullet had become lodged in the wall, another cracked the ceiling where dashes of dust continued to fall, but the third had aimed true; droplets of fresh blood dotted the tile along a hasty path to where it smeared at a junction with another corridor.

In the crimson wave of another emergency light she found two separate paths marred by the blood as though its owner had doubled back in an attempt to confuse potential pursuers. From what little she could discern though, one hall was being occupied by an escaped prisoner that had crouched down in the shadows, poised to listen for the danger lurking around them. When he caught sight of her, bright blue balls of flame erupted from his hands to illuminate a round face marked with matching blue eyes and closely shaved blonde hair. They eyed one another for a moment, but both were reluctant to attack other as they were very much aware of a greater enemy in their presence. The only thing that may have saved the man's ability was the fact that Sylar would have been preoccupied by his primary objective. All the same, Claire chose to take the other route and effectively avoid his unpredictable obstacle.

There were more shadows creeping about the maze of tunnels, all crowded as tightly into the corners as possible, and none seemed willing to give away their positions in order to impede her so she pushed on without paying them much heed. Movement caught her attention near the Level One floor and she bolted for the door that swayed closed. Bursting into the cell she at first found nothing, but after lingering for a moment to be sure, two curious blonde heads popped out from under the bed that they had been using to hide. "Elle?"

The man wearing the white pajama clothing of Primatech prisoners crawled out after the confused girl that climbed to her feet. Elle Bishop squinted at her a few times trying to think of where she had seen her face before. "Claire? Bennet's daughter?"

"Where'd he go?"

Elle looked back at Adam and then at Claire again. "I don't know… What are _you_ doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Texas or something?" The next sound was that of Elle's backside smacking into the concrete floor of the cell as she held her bloodied nose. She may not have known her yet, but Claire could certainly remember more about the electropath than she cared to. According to Sylar's files, Bishop had played an integral role in his creation as a monster, and it seemed that in Claire's absence history had repeated itself.

Claire flexed her abused knuckles, watching them heal over the splits in the delicate skin. Elle's eyes widened slightly at the sight having not known before that her former Company partner was concealing his own daughter's ability. Her male counterpart also looked on with a mild amount of surprise and amusement. "I like her," Adam grinned as Claire left the cell, looking back to where Elle continued to pinch the bridge of her nose.

Memories of similar cat and mouse games within the confines of Primatech floated back to her as her fingers skimmed along the walls for guidance. She carefully stepped over a slouching body and side-stepped the obstruction of heavy oak desks that had been thrown about. Testing one door would lead to a dead end of warped locking mechanisms while another would allow further passage. They were being herded. Like cattle to the slaughter, Sylar had oriented the building to his advantage so that anyone seeking him or escape would be funneled along the routes that he chose, and she guessed they all ultimately lead straight to him or at least where he wanted them to be. Releasing the prisoners had offered a practical distraction for the agents that remained on duty as well as bait for someone like her father. The first body that she had found, the technician that had been sliced to ribbons, that hadn't been Sylar's usual handy work. That poor woman's death had been personal. Vengeful. And if Sylar were after revenge rather than power it would explain why the only sign of a stolen ability she had found was in the lone agent. All of Primatech's detainees had been left unscathed. Oddly enough the motives began to make sense. Sylar was after the Company. No one else. He had been manipulated, lied to, and betrayed by them. Their prisoners probably seemed like people with kindred issues. Wrongfully accused or stuffed into cages like dogs because they bit when prodded one too many times. With Claire being the only one that could stop him, and suddenly jerked away…

Gabriel was all alone. He was facing his greatest fear with nothing left to lose.

Tendrils of ice snaked along the walls under broken networks of water pipes with ghastly icicles hanging their razor points down at forceful angles where the moisture had burst. At the end of the last hall a wall of frost enclosed a door barring entry. As it was the final passage, and the ability blocking it a familiar token in Sylar's arsenal, it wasn't hard to assume where had gone.

Three shots at the ice block were enough to shatter most of it apart, the chunks sprawling out across the tile at her feet. Claire used her hands to pull the rest away. Ignoring the sharp edges that gouged into her skin she tore her way into the room. It appeared to be a large conference area, almost auditorium like with the wide open floor space, and a valuable strategic point with its bottle neck entry way without secondary exit. The long polished table that would have seated at least a dozen or more had been shoved to the far side along with its chairs, and in the center of the room were two figures that she didn't even need to see clearly to distinguish.

"Sylar!" she screamed as he loomed over her father, laying on the floor in a position to crawl backwards from his nemesis. "Stop!" He froze instantly at the sound of her voice. Even in the darkness she knew how his back muscles would tense, his shoulders squared to turn and look.

Deadly fingers that had been poised to slash at her father's defenseless body fell to his side. "Claire?" Sylar's eyes hardened for a moment as he drank her in, but whatever war was being waged in his fragile mind subsided and he softened, timidly approaching. "It's you. It's really you," he whispered to no one in particular when he stopped a few feet away. "They told me you were dead."

"It's me. I'm fine. They've been keeping me here…" He shuffled to within closing distance, surprise, confusion, happiness and rage all entangling together into one indecipherable emotion in his frenzied eyes. "Gabriel… What did they do to you?" Claire reached out to touch one of the many cuts that littered the expanse of his body, but he flinched away like a wounded animal, his eyebrows drawing downward in a fierce expression so that his eyes became obscured by the deep purple swelling encompassing them. Torture. The damage that could be seen appeared superficial for the most part but it was what went unseen that troubled her. What had they done that hurt deeper than anything physical? That had the power to force him away from her touch in such a manner?

"They told me that I killed you. That it was my fault." She reached out to touch him again and he flinched, but remained in place. "I tried to find you. I - I tried to stop it. But you were gone. I just wanted to make them go away."

"I know," she rasped through the tightening of her own throat when he leaned his cheek into the palm of her hand, every motion a desperate search for confirmation that she was real. "It's not your fault, Gabriel. None of this was your fault."

"I killed those people, Claire."

"I know." His haunted eyes stared straight through her in a pain that she couldn't imagine for herself.

"Are you going to kill me now?" They both looked down at the gun still being held in her trembling hand. He stiffened again, muscles strained, and his voice a detached monotone. Gabriel had been resigned to death, but the part of him that was Sylar clung to the most basic of instincts for survival. "I don't think I can stop it now." And that was the damage that they had done to him. A taste for blood that could never be taken back. Irreparable.

The tell tale click of a round being chambered sounded from behind them. Noah had recovered himself as well as his weapon and stood with the killer in his sights. "Move out of the way, Claire."

Gabriel dropped to his knees knowing that his time was done. Something like relief shone through from behind the darkened haze of his broken self. The end was near. A welcome end to his suffering. "No."

"Claire, think about what you're doing. You know what's going to happen if we don't finish this."

"No." Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away not wanting to miss what could be the last moments with the man that beyond all possibilities she had come to love. She couldn't give up on him. Even after all the things that they had been through and what he had done, she knew that Gabriel lived on inside of the monster. She couldn't make herself let go of that. Not when he needed her the most.

Noah strafed over to her side, ending up slightly behind her as she used her body to block his view of Sylar. "You came here to save the world, Claire. You showed us what he's capable of. Think of all the people that are going to die."

Sylar peered out again, his menacing glare piercing directly through her to Noah. Without a thought for what she was doing, Claire drew on him the second she saw his hand raise towards her father. Gabriel blinked back, slightly confused, but not all together surprised. His lucidity was rapidly waning and he knew it as well as she did.

"Claire!" Noah shouted to her, keeping his weapon trained on their target. "Do it, Claire! He's a killer!"

"Please, Claire," Sylar implored her, leaning forward on his knees to take hold of the revolver's barrel. He slowly moved the firearm up his stomach until it was held to his chest in her trembling fingers, just over his heart. "If I have to die today I want you to be the one to do it." He shifted nervously when Noah took another step closer, finding his aim past his daughter. "Please, Claire. I don't want to be a monster."

"I can't," she sobbed. Tears streamed down her face as her shoulders shook and her stomach churned irritably. Gabriel thumbed away the evidence of her torment and watched helplessly as her mouth opened and closed, stumbling for the right words to say. "I need to tell you something."

_You're going to be a father. _In the darkness as it were with the oversized black shirt covering her form, Claire knew that he wouldn't be able to see the bulge of her belly. He would never know of the life that they had created, or be able to indulge in the joys of their child's innocence. He would never hold his son. Never watch him grow and play. He wouldn't be there for the first words or steps, the first day of school, or the magical discoveries of every day objects to a learning mind in a world they took for granted. Gabriel wouldn't be there at her side to look into the depths of sharp brown eyes that mirrored his own.

And so, the words to express her joys for them, and the fear of what was to come refused to exit her swollen lips. "Shoot, Claire!" her father shouted again.

His fingers twitched in the failing resistance that Gabriel provided. Claire never got the opportunity to spill her secrets to him. Noah took another step and his fingers found hers in the metallic loop. "Do it, Claire! Kill me!" Gabriel screamed through gritted teeth. He couldn't hold on anymore, and in another second it was only Sylar staring back at her. The quiet calculation of a machine swallowed the last of him, predicting the statistical outcomes of his situation in a void of emotion. Pure, unadulterated instinct.

"I'm sorry," she whispered for whatever trace of Gabriel that may have remained. "I love you. Always."

The hunger blinked its blackened eyes, dissecting her existence for a moment before whipping the gun out of her hands. A lethal hand lifted and Noah took his shot. The fire of his gun echoed around the room to sting their ears with finality.

**To be continued...**

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so going to get killed for this cliff hanger.<strong>


	32. A Four Year Interlude

**Q&A time! In this particular story I'm not really treating Gabri****el/Sylar as two distinct personalities. I think there's a very valid argument in that Gabriel could have been mentally ill like Nikki, but I look at them as just being two sides to the same person. Gabriel and Sylar are one functional mind, but the differences between the two personas kind of mirror that duality of good and evil that sort of exists in everybody. Where Gabriel isn't always entirely innocent, he holds on to the more emotional aspects of humanity. Sylar, the alter ego, on the other hand who isn't always entirely evil, is really almost an extension of the hunger and his ability. Even though he comes off as being rational and collected, he's also more primal and instinctually driven. As time goes on Gabriel/Sylar becomes more and more in control of (all) his abilities so the influence of the hunger kind of diminishes as he gets used to it (it's still pretty much his driving force though). Since this story was supposed to take place in the beginning though when he hadn't learned that level of control yet I wanted to make the hunger and the differences between Gabriel/Sylar more pronounced. It's kind of an ambiguous concept that's_ really_ hard to get down on paper so if I failed too miserably let me know and I can find a way to rewrite the last chapter or something.**

**That being said - this chapter is admittedly kind of jacked up. But I really wanted to get in that sense of time passing by so this is the best that I could do.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>March 30, 2006<em>

A harsh chuckle bubbled out of him, slowly morphing into deranged laughter that pierced the chilled air. Noah stared in unabashed bewilderment. Claire could only look on with a blank expression of shock for what had just transpired. The cracked cackling of a mad man drifted subtly into the slyest of smirks as the bullet held stationary before him fell to _clink_ on the floor.

His aim had been true - a shot of deadly accuracy pin pointed to the space directly between the eyes. But what they hadn't counted on was that during his time of looking down the barrel of the gun, his ability had been processing the mechanics of the inevitable projectile. He knew the path of its spinning trajectory, and all the where and how that would bring the bullet into his grasp. All to catch it within the field of his telekinesis.

Sylar climbed to his feet, looming over them with an aura darker than the room around them. _Nice try. _"I love you too, Claire Bear," the hunger sneered with cruel amusement. His hand lifted, and Noah fired again until his magazine was emptied, the unused casings ineffectively deflected to scatter over the floor. Sylar made to slash at the material of space the Company man occupied and Claire jumped in front of him, bringing her father into a protective hug to thwart the attack.

And then the world around them dissolved away in a shuddering ripple of time and space.

Sylar blinked a few times into the darkness as time resumed its course. A long gash appeared in the wall before him, but Bennet and Claire had disappeared in an instant without trace. A muffled '_How?_' escaped him as he searched out the source of the unlikely escape in futility.

Noah stumbled around, temporarily blinded by the dry sunlight of the Texas plains. "Claire?" He whirled about a few times only to find himself alone somewhere outside of Odessa. It was the first time that he had ever teleported and the effects of the space jump were slightly disorienting. The Company man found his way home inside of an hour, but it would take him years to figure out how he had gotten there or that a young man named Hiro Nakamura had saved his life.

* * *

><p>"Holy shit, man," the guy working the counter of the pawn shop rasped. "You look like hell."<p>

He felt worse. Escaping Primatech had been the easy part. Removing the bullet that had lodged itself in his thigh had required diligent patience and probably more than a healthy amount of alcohol. The hotel room that he had broken in to had been a welcome sight, a place to bandage his wounds and soak up as much sleep as possible after a steamy shower. Despite the slight limp that he was forced to walk with until the gun shot wound healed, barring serious infection, Sylar felt that he would fully recover with a little time. Time _away_ seemed like the best option considering the state of affairs that he found himself in.

"How much can I get for this?" he asked placing the engagement ring that he had recovered on the counter top for inspection. Sylar pulled out a brochure for Paris to show his business consort. "I've got a lot of traveling to do."

* * *

><p>"Hello, Chandra." The geneticist instantly tensed at the familiar voice of his cab fare. They're parting of ways some months before hadn't exactly been the most amicable. But what was he to do? When every other name on the lists that he had worked so hard to develop began to mysteriously disappear, usually within days of being introduced to his Patient Zero, he found no other option than to cut off the source.<p>

"Gabriel," he greeted back without turning around.

"You abandoned me, Chandra," Sylar started, the smirk coming out in his voice as the scientist did his best not to squirm. "But that's not what I'm here for." Suresh's eyes flickered to him in the rear view mirror as he pulled out a file from his coat with the name Claire Bennet printed on its cover. "I know you won't remember, there are just too many scars," Sylar quirked his head at him, reading into the workings of his mind, "but we've had a discussion about this before."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Suresh rebuked. "Now please leave."

Sylar shrugged his shoulders with a grim chuckle. "Point proven, Doctor." He seemed content to examine his subject for a moment in tense silence before speaking again. "You'll never stop, will you." It was stated so much more as a fact than a real question. He glanced down at the worn photo of Claire, abused and frayed around the edges from use, and she smiled back at him as she always did. A lot of people had become invested in the protection of her identity from exposure, but he was the first willing to do what was necessary. It had been almost five months since he had seen her, but keeping her safe was a priority that never wanted to end.

As he stepped out from the cab, Chandra's neck having been broken after a few well earned bashes, he spared a look for his wrist watch. Slightly bemused, he noticed that its face had been cracked down the center and the time remained stuck at 11:53 P.M. Laughter bubbled out of him for the irony. The original that Claire had brought for him to repair really had been identical in every way, right down to the date. September 28, 2006, at seven minutes to midnight.

* * *

><p>"Wow, you're right," he said placing his plate of pancakes down. "These are incredible. I'm sorry to interrupt this little Hallmark moment, but we had a deal. You tell me everything you know."<p>

Hiro mostly avoided Charlie's look of incredulity that he would make any kind of deal with the monster. "Yes. I will tell you how you die. You die alone. I'm sorry."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you will collect a lot of powers. You will kill many people. You will become strong. The strongest of them all. But in the end, it won't make any difference. We all gather to stop you. You alone. No one will mourn your death. No one will shed a tear. No one. I wish I could change fate, but you must go on your path."

And then he reappeared in the alley as he had been before without trace of the strange Japanese guy to be found. Had he not seen a similar disappearing act before within the confines of Primatech, Sylar never would have given his words heed. But if this Hiro could indeed manipulate the matter of time and space then it was plausible that he would hold such valuable information as to make their unlikely partnership practical. Oddly enough, the relationship also served to remove his desire for the waitress's memory ability. Once he had cured her ailment, the hunger had dissipated. Of course that discomfort had been quickly replaced with the awkwardness that came along with being a third wheel so to speak. Watching Hiro and Charlie embrace after her death defying ordeal had stirred within him another yearning. The hole in his being that was not driven by the need for power, but for the fulfillment that only comfort taken in another human being could sate. It dredged up memories that he had committed to shoving by the wayside of Claire and all that they had shared together. He used to hold her that way.

The news of his death was unsettling to say the least. As Sylar looked down on the black ball cap that he held in his hands he wondered however briefly if it were too late to change his ways. Cheerleaders parading down the street, raising the enthusiasm of their spectators sounded in the distance, and his mission once more became resolute. If he could locate the Jackie Wilcox that had somehow managed to walk through fire without being burnt, then he could adopt her regenerative ability. He could be like Claire after all. He could find her, and show her that she didn't have to be alone. He would have all the time in the world that it would take for her to forgive him for what he had had to do.

He wouldn't die alone if he could _never_ die.

* * *

><p>A smirk curled in the corner of his mouth. It had been just too convenient to have happened across another Regen so close to Claire. Unfortunately for Jackie Wilcox, she hadn't been as inconspicuous about it as Claire. The news paper articles, the television spot for the local news, the occupancy of an entire trophy case in the main hall of Union Wells all boasting about her heroic bravery gave him all the information he needed. Sylar knew her face, her voice, her whereabouts thanks to her status as a cheerleader, and most importantly, the improbability that she would have been able to survive such a fire without the aid of a very special ability. An ability that would make <em>him<em> like Claire.

Lingering in the shadows he had watched over the group of pom-pom toting girls as they exited the locker room to head towards the football field. There were plenty of pretty blonde heads in the giggling crowd, but not the one he was seeking. Sylar slipped in through the doors before they closed and locked. A nasally, obnoxious voice echoed back to him off the walls and rows of metal lockers. The voice that could bring him one step closer to perfection. _Bingo._

She was arguing with someone. Her tone rose to a higher pitch with tension, but the other voice remained low and calm, indecipherable within all the obstructions of the locker room. He could tell that it was another young female though and likely not a threat. Flipping the light switch plunged the room into darkness serving both the purpose of surprise and protection of his identity from the other girl. "Public schools suck!"

Following Jackie's ceaseless chatter made locating the girl an easy task. Sylar waited for her to pass by the row of lockers he was lurking about and snatched her as soon as she wandered into range. He hoisted her up against the line of steel compartments by the jaw, studying her face to make sure that he had gotten the right one because she didn't feel like the others had. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about her that he could immediately detect. The other girl had a bit of fight in her. She jumped on his back, looping her arms around his neck to pull him away from her friend. It was sort of a knee-jerk reaction really to fling her away as he had. Acquiring enhanced strength from James Walker had been an interesting experience to say the least. He had snapped off door handles, jerked a car door clean off of its hinges and accidentally crushed numerous items by forgetting for a second that he had to carefully control the force of the ability. He knew the moment that he had thrown the girl off and heard her body break against the wall behind him that he had most likely killed her, or at the very least gravely injured her. He hadn't meant to do it, but what was done, was done and there was no taking it back. So he continued with his primary objective.

The line was carved over her forehead, the blood from the wound streaming down her face as she gasped in pain. There was power nearby. He could feel it. And yet, something wasn't quite right.

Sylar heard the bone snap first and he paused. Following Jackie's eyes towards something behind him when she whispered for someone to run, he felt his heart stop in mid beat. _Claire? _There she was, the one he had accidentally thrown into the wall, standing very much alive with the disfigurement of crushed bones in her face stitching themselves back to perfection. Blood and all, it was most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Until she ran.

He had immediately dropped Jackie's body when had seen her there. Something like dread crept into his stomach, realizing that the other cheerleader hadn't been the Regen he was searching for after all. It was an unfortunate misunderstanding that years later would seem almost tragically humorous, but in the meantime there was only shame. He had never wanted her to see what he was forced to do. And he had certainly never meant to harm her in the process. But how do you tell the woman you're in love with that murdering her friend in front of her after bashing her skull in was just an accident?

For all of his knowledge and power he had no idea. They didn't exactly make greeting cards for such things.

So he did what any emotionally dumbstruck idiot would do. He followed her blindly.

Seeing her run into the welcome arms of another man didn't help. Jealousy and fury surged forward. The sudden emotional instability wrought havoc on his abilities, half formed thoughts violently ripping locker doors from their hinges to be hurled at the retreating back.

_Claire, _the unrequited words stuck in his throat, _I didn't mean it. Please come back. I'm sorry._

Before he could even fully register what was happening he had somehow ended up on top of the Union Wells building. Just as he was ready to call out to her, her male companion grabbed hold of him and jumped. Somewhere between the surprise of what had just happened and realizing that the concrete hurdling upward to greet him did not bode well, Sylar snapped back to reality enough to attempt to slow his descent. The guy gripping him let go, falling with a sickening _thud _just before he smacked into the ground on top of him.

He gave himself a minute to groan from what felt like the worst belly buster dive in history before he rolled over and climbed to his feet. The guy next to him was without a doubt dead having been twisted about into some awkward angles that even made his stomach nauseas to look at. "What the fuck?" he demanded of the dead body. "Who does that?" After popping a nasty crick from his neck Sylar didn't feel above giving his near killer a swift kick in the side for all the good it did him. "Moron."

* * *

><p>"You're not going anywhere, Gabriel," Bennet gloated from the viewing port of his cell.<p>

"My name is Sylar."

"Now it is. It wasn't so long ago that you were Gabriel Gray, an insignificant watch maker." The pain in his side forced a hiss of pain out of him as he slid from his bed to face the older man. He never wanted to give Bennet the impression that he had somehow won something in any of their encounters.

"I restored time pieces," he corrected calmly, analyzing the circumstances of his situation. "You know why I was so good at it?"

"No, why don't you tell me."

"Because I can see how things work. What makes them... _tick_." Noah gave him that condescending smile of mild boredom that he hated so much. "Like you."

"We're interested in how things work as well. Everyone else we've met has had only one ability. You've taken on several."

_Several since the last time you had me strapped to a table_. "I guess that's what makes me special."

"That's important to you, isn't it," Bennet smirked. "Being _special_." He emphasized the word _special_ just like his mother used to do, a vicious stab at what his life had been before.

"It's important to everyone."

"I think you're insane. I think the infusions of so many alterations to your DNA has corrupted your mind. All this power is degrading you."

"And yet, here I am alive and well, and as soon as I'm out I going to collect one more ability from your daughter." The expression of gloating was wiped clean off of Noah's face. Yes, Sylar knew exactly what made him tick and where to strike that would hurt most. "Sweet, innocent -"

"That's enough."

"Ripe. Indestructible."

"I said that's enough, Gabriel!"

"My name is Sylar!" The sly smirk of the Company man returned the moment his hands struck the glass in frustration. He had tipped his hand too early, and Noah knew that he was full of shit. Claire's father was the only one that could press his buttons as well he did in turn. Perhaps he should have continued on, told him exactly how much he had enjoyed his daughter's body in multiple ways, how she had whimpered his name when he was inside of her, but the thought didn't appeal to him until after Bennet had shut the lights off and left. Slumping back onto his cot, biting his lip to keep from groaning in pain, he did wonder how long Noah had simmered over their physical relationship. There had been two cameras stashed in his apartment that he had found during cleaning it out, one of which he knew for sure had probably captured a few of their more intimate moments. On the couch, on the floor, on the table, in virtually each of the chairs that he owned... Hopefully Virginia wouldn't find him making his big break in the world as part of a study on the mating habits of 'specials' featured in Scientific America.

* * *

><p>"I told Claire to get a move on. She said she'd be back soon."<p>

"Cheerleader, huh?" _I never did think it suited her very well. _

"Co-captain by junior year," Sandra boasted with pride in her voice.

"Wow." He was really only paying her half attention, most of it being on the portrait of Claire before him. He liked that picture. She was all sun kissed skin and golden curls in it like he remembered.

"Oh, not so much these days. They dissolved the team because of some horrible event at the school."

"I heard about that. That must have been hard on poor Claire." Sandra paused in her vegetable dicing, intuitively picking up on something inappropriate. So maybe blatantly fishing for clues on Claire's well being since their last ill fated meeting hadn't been the most tactful of moves.

"You are awfully interested in my daughter."

"Well, ever since I seen what she can do I guess you could say that I'm a… fan. She's really quite gifted."

"Oh, you've been to a game?"

"Yeah, I guess I have. I just couldn't get over those irresistible… talents of hers." And the open fawning didn't help. Faux southern charm or no, the alarm bells were ringing at full blast in Sandra's eyes. He felt like he was being lectured by Suresh all over again - as if he didn't realize for himself the gravity of the situation.

_I should have just waited in her bedroom. _While the context had been considerably different at the time, he was being completely serious when he said that he wanted to meet Claire's mother. The reality had torn apart a great deal of the imaginings though. Talking with Sandra had been comfortable, and while she really was a likable woman, the revelation that Claire was much more like her father was endlessly annoying. If nothing else the experience offered a wonderful opportunity to screw with Bennet which was rapidly becoming his favorite past time.

In retrospect, the experience also served to teach him two valuable lessons. Number one being that as he lay undercover in an alley a few blocks from the house nursing Bennet bullet wound two, he officially hated being shot. Number two, he really needed to rethink his methods on getting Claire back.

* * *

><p>Alone, in the dark of his cell, Sylar mulled over all the implications of what Angela had just told him. He had a family. Granted, it was probably another lie in a list too long to mention, but a part of it made a strange amount of sense. He could pass for a Petrelli brother with little effort. He was tall like Nathan, but built perhaps a little more like Peter. He had the dark hair and eyes, and the ability fit in somewhat. Arthur and Peter both had been able to consume multiple powers in their own ways, Arthur's being almost as brutal as his own.<p>

That meant that he had a mother again in Angela. The thought of being accepted and becoming a part of a real family brightened his spirits considerably. He had a mother, and a father, and two pain in the ass brothers. He had somewhere he belonged and fit in for the first time in his life. And when he eventually got Claire back they could...

Sylar's blood froze solid in his veins. Claire... Nathan's daughter, Claire... Nathan, his brother's daughter, Claire... Oh, Christ, he had been sleeping with his own niece. She wasn't just underage jail bait - she was blood related jail bait, which meant that he wasn't just a pervert - he was a disgusting, incestuous pervert. His hand clutched at his stomach when it rumbled for impending disaster.

The sounds of his hacking and gagging echoed back to him from the wash basin that caught his heaves. More and more of the putrid contents of his stomach were emptied every time he turned over another thought of how much of a revolting deviant he had become. He was in love with his own flesh and blood. He had taken advantage of her in ways that... And Angela had known about it. Sylar halted his vomiting long enough to remember his round about interactions with the Petrellis through Claire before the Primatech disaster. They had set it up. They had set up the operations that planted Claire in his life and they knew...

Another round of heaves wretched bile from the pit of his gut. They all knew what he had done to her, to Claire, and not a word of reproach had been spoken. He wasn't being shoved away for the monster that he was, he was being welcomed back with loving arms.

"What the fuck kind of family am I in?"

* * *

><p>Sylar leaned back on the kitchen stool to grab another piece of candy from the bowl on the counter. "You know what, Mr. Muggles?" he spoke to the dog that had come along to inspect his shoestrings. He bent over to pick up the miniature dog, giving it a few pats on the head as he held it in his lap. "I think you're the only one in this family that I like." He wistfully glanced over at the pantry doors that Claire had chained shut from the inside. She wasn't going to come out anytime soon. "I mean really," he pointed out the lunacy of the situation, "does she think I can't get in there if I want to?" He sighed as he grabbed another piece of candy, wondering what it was that kept him from just blowing the doors off. "As Bennet once told me," he spoke conspiratorially to the dog, "women are <em>insane<em>." Insane enough to plant a butcher knife in the chest of a serial killer as it turned out.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Looking for answers before I _bleed_ to death."

"Funny. I'm looking for answers too." He rolled his eyes at her typical sarcastic obstinacy. Between her childish antics and the shard of stainless steel collapsing his lung, his irritable mood wasn't getting any better. "Why don't I feel anything?"

"No nerve endings," he explained, slightly more upbeat knowing that she wasn't in pain. "An amazing bit of machinery, this. And how much of it do we really use? Ten percent? Maybe, twenty? Imagine the answers we'd have with a hundred percent." Another twinge made him whimper in pain. "Why is there evil? How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? …How do we make love stay?

"All these answers… They're all right here."

"Are you gonna eat it?"

"Eat your brain?" Her sudden question caught him off guard and disturbed his dissection of the most beautiful cortex he'd ever seen. That was an issue that he had to address right away. Having her run around with twisted beliefs that he was some kind of zombie cannibal was just… pathetic. "Claire, that's disgusting."

"Wait." Sylar instantly paused as if something deep, deep inside of him gave no choice other than to heed the girl's command. It almost felt like hope. "What about me? Aren't you going to kill me?"

"Poor girl. There's so much about yourself that you don't even understand. Your brain is not like the others, Claire. _You_ are not like the others." _You mean something to me_. "You're different. You're special. And I couldn't kill you even if I wanted to."

Being inside of Claire's brain was quite possibly the most intimate experience of his life, a close second being the first time that they had made love. Hidden within the healthy pink tissues were all the answers to her mystery. Maybe it wasn't the finite explanation that he really wanted, but it was enough to know that the girl laid out before him was not his. She hadn't forgotten about him or cast him aside because she had never been his to do so in the first place. Theories potentially involving a nuisance time traveler began to take shape.

* * *

><p>"Are you okay?"<p>

"Peachy," she grit at him annoyance.

"Targets gone," he informed Noah after a quick survey.

"He can't be far." Sylar knew that the Company man wanted nothing more than to run off after Canfield as if the vortex hadn't happened, but catching his gaze he gave the slightest of nods towards Claire. Dealing with her was more important for the time being. "Claire, where did Mr. Canfield go?"

"Leave him alone. He doesn't want to hurt anyone."

"This isn't a game. He's _very _dangerous."

"Who are you to talk? Bringing _him_ here?" The look of pure disgust that she leveled on him stung. "Tell me you're not working with him after what he did to me!" Even after saving her life, Claire was reluctant to give him the benefit of a doubt. Half a doubt would have been a blessing. A part of him almost wished he'd let her fall in. But only almost. If he hadn't saved her then the future version of herself would never exist. And if _she_ didn't exist, then _his_ Claire would never come back.

"I know you hate me. I understand. When I touched your hand I could feel the pain that I caused you, and I never meant for you to -"

"_Shut _your mouth, _now_. You don't get to talk to her. _Ever_." Of course, if Noah had his way, Sylar's Claire would never exist regardless of what he did.

* * *

><p>"Don't you love a good Pinot?" he teased.<p>

"My dad's on his way," she threatened back in vain. "He's going to stop you, and then I'm going to kill you."

"No. Actually, I'm going to kill _him_. Or have you kill him. I haven't decided yet. Don't give me _that_ look," he scoffed as he whirled her back around. He recognized that look. It was one that be longed to _his_ Claire, not that one. "Everybody dies sometime. Well, almost everybody. Papa Petrelli, Mama Bennet, Mr. Muggles," he teased again as he walked her back towards him. "What's your brother's name again? Larry?"

"Lyle."

"Lyle, right." Sylar never could remember the kid's name. He was just that… forgettable really. "He's gonna die too. As we speak my father's dying. "Did I tell you I got to meet my real dad? Boy, was that a disappointment. Have you ever stopped to think about how much we have common, Claire?" He pushed a glass of wine her way.

"You were adopted. I was adopted. You can't die. I can't die." Sylar clinked their glasses together with a trace of a smile.

"Oh, you can die. I'll make sure of it."

His smile evaporated as he forced her to sip the wine with him, recalculating the approach. Claire always had a way of gumming up the works when he was around her. He was just supposed to shake the President's hand. That's all. His mother had always told him that he could be president, and it was supposed to be a simple, in and out job. No unnecessary violence required. But there she was as always, hell bent on ruining his day, and bringing Bennet along for the joy ride.

Sometimes he wondered what it was that he had ever seen in her. Perhaps he wore a set of rose colored glasses when he thought about Claire, but Sylar never remembered her being so damn hateful. _All. The. Time_. He knew she could be a righteous pain in the ass when she was really motivated to be so, but the version of her sitting beside him… The brattiness of her teen years was enough to make him reconsider the whole relationship.

"You'll get bored after like a hundred years of trying to off me and watching all of your loved ones drop like flies. You may eventually come to forgive me. Maybe you'll even love me."

"I'll keep trying to kill you for the rest of my life."

_Swing and a miss. _"Well, everybody needs a hobby." Sylar took another drink of his wine, trying to remain patient with the little ice queen. "I'm not saying that there aren't bridges that need to be built. But if we start building them now… Who knows? You could be my first, first lady."

He palmed her jaw, leaning in for a kiss. "I will _never_ stop hating you." Admittedly he might have lost some of his patience when he clamped her jaw shut a little tighter than it needed to be.

"Be careful not to make promises you can't keep, little Claire Bear." Sounds of two pairs of feet coming up the hallway outside alerted him to the expected intrusion. "Oh, look, the Scooby Gang wants to join in our fun." He rolled his eyes and leapt off the couch to face his enemies. Unfortunately an after thought for the teen witch struggling against his bonds dredged up the old familiar want. However irritating she was, Claire was still Claire. And that meant that he could get away with throwing her at a wall if it was in the process of getting her out of harm's way.

* * *

><p>"What's it doing?"<p>

"Stop thinking," Samuel hissed as he watched the ink swirl turbulently about. "Stop trying to force it. Just let it happen."

Easier said than done. For a mind that is _always_ thinking of _something, _however subtle or subconscious, gathering all manner of data for consumption - not thinking is quite literally not possible. Sylar closed his eyes and did his best to push it all away, to sink into the gentle warmth of the ink as it traversed his flesh. The sights, the sounds, the smells, thoughts, emotions, memories, and lies all fell away as static. But there was one part of him that refused to be pushed back into the darkness.

"Well isn't that interesting," Samuel pondered from over his shoulder.

"I guess you were wrong." Sylar pulled his shirt back on with a haste that wasn't exactly typical of immortals. "I don't belong here."

It was finally time to meet his destiny.

**To be continued...**


	33. Thou Shall Not Fall: Part III

**Thanks to everybody that has reviewed/alerted for this story. I always appreciate the feedback. It's a little weird to say that this is finally the end since I've been working on it for so long, but without further ado - the final chapter to Saving Gabriel!**

* * *

><p><em>November 26, 2010<em>

Claire held her eyes shut so tightly that it took a moment to realize light was shining behind them, and that her arms, which had been previously shielding her father were unmistakably empty. She cracked the lids open slowly, fearful of what might be found, but ultimately realized that she was no longer where she had been. Primatech and all its nightmares had dissolved away to be replaced by a cheerfully lit drawing room. She turned about to find herself back in the Petrelli family home surrounded by grimly expectant faces.

Angela reclined in her stiff backed chair, a photo of Nathan in one hand and her liquor glass in the other. Noah stood by with his hands clasped behind him and shoulders squared, tensed for what was to come, his glasses shining in the light as pristinely as they always had. And a rather weary looking Hiro stumbled back from Claire's side. The time traveler's eyes were blood shot as he exhaustedly held up fingers for examination that had been dotted with the trickle of blood from his nose.

All of her memories from the past four years came rushing back at her with tidal force. "Sylar…" Everything was exactly as it had been. For all of her effort spent in the past, absolutely nothing had changed. Claire looked them all in the eyes, using the last of her restraint to hold back the wave of tears that wanted nothing more than to refresh those that still lingered on her lashes from all that time ago. "I failed."

"We know." Noah came to her side to wrap his daughter in his arms as though he hadn't seen her in ages, when by the clock ticking on the mantle she could see that not even a minute had passed since her departure. "We've been waiting a long time for this."

"I don't understand… Why?"

Ice clinked about in the bottom of Angela's glass, and her eyes shone with the most vile of intentions. "_You_," Claire snarled, the simple word almost ripping from her throat as a growl. "_You knew_." She tore herself from her father's embrace to approach her grandmother with the flush of blind fury rising beneath her skin. "You knew this whole time! Why? Why would you send me back to stop Sylar when you knew I was going to fail?"

Hiro worriedly looked on from the chair that had caught his collapse, but remained without the reserve energy to speak or calm the situation. Noah came to grab her by the shoulders recognizing that given half a prod more she might crack and become physically violent with the older woman. He may not have cared much for Angela's well being at that particular point in the time, but he didn't want to see his baby girl sink to that kind of level.

"There was never any way to stop Sylar." Petrelli ruefully smiled into the mouth of her glass before draining the last amber drop from its chilled depths. "Time is a fickle creature," she continued to muse, almost to herself. "Every decision we make, every action taken, it all ripples outward affecting everything else. It's the butterfly effect. Step on the wrong butterfly and years later a million people will die."

Angela turned her hardened eyes up to look at Claire, trembling with rage. "The timeline had to be preserved except for one little detail…" She placed her glass and Nathan's picture down with the brand of violent serenity that can be only created from years of discipline in torment. Sliding from her seat, resembling so much the viper prepared to strike, Angela snaked her aging palm over the concealed curvature of her granddaughter's rounding stomach.

"Mom? Anybody home?" Peter wandered around the corner, distractedly flicking through screens on his cell phone with his medical bag in tow. "Ma -" He caught himself as he looked up at the scene unfolding. "Uh…" His confused glance caught the bulge of niece's stomach under the overly large black shirt tainted with darker spatters of blood on the sleeves. "Is there something you guys need to tell me?"

Claire wriggled from Noah's grasp and Angela's unwelcome touch. She rushed over to her bewildered uncle, latching on to his arm. "Peter, you have to help me!"

He looked between her and the others before leaning down to speak to her in a low tone, catching on to the air of foul play in the room. "Claire, why do you look like your six months pregnant when I just saw you…" He tried to remember the last time he had seen her face to face. With all of the long hours spent on paramedic duty and the craziness that Sylar and the carnival had brought into their lives he couldn't remember the last time he had actually spent time with her, but he knew that it sure as hell wasn't long enough for that kind of event to take place without his notice. "Who's the father?"

She swallowed hard before answering, not sure whether he would blow up, storm out, or fall into the detached ambivalence of strong disapproval. "Sylar."

Peter's eyebrows drew together. He was definitely angry, and more than a little confused which didn't help the situation, but he didn't pull away from her and for that Claire was grateful. He rolled his eyes back to his mother, no doubt catching on that she had played a hand in it. "I believe Mr. Nakamura is in need of your assistance, Peter," Angela coolly indicated the presence of the fading Japanese man. "I called you here for him. We'll explain everything. Please," she placated.

The empath unhappily removed himself from Claire after a meaningful look that promised he would side with her on whatever issues they were about to present, and pulled out his stethoscope and a pin light to examine Hiro. Once Peter had started checking for vital signs and the dilation of the pupils, Angela began recalling the basic details of their time warping schemes.

"I'm sorry about all of this," Noah whispered as he sidled up her side. Claire couldn't even bring herself to look at him. All of her ire from his part in her supposed mission to save the world from Sylar as well as that which he played in Nathan's demise rolled between them like a wall of ghosts past. "If I had known what she was going to do… Claire, I never would have let this happen. You have to believe me on that."

"You never would have _let _this happen?" she sneered back at him without the courtesy of eye contact, choosing instead to watch her uncle at work. "You mean, you never would have let me go back in time? You never would have let me have Gabriel's baby? Or you wouldn't have stopped me from killing him when I had the chance?" Claire rolled her eyes up at him with the sting of venom in her words. "What makes you think you had any more choice in all of this than I did?"

Noah deflated with a sorrowful sigh. With his shrugging shoulders and slouched stance he appeared much older, and much more tired than she remembered. "None of us had a choice in this, but…" He turned his gaze off into the distance to remember something from years ago. "Angela told me, after Primatech, that if we ever wanted a chance at stopping Sylar then we couldn't tell you about what had happened. There was something about a time, space continuum, and that in the end -" Noah turned back to his daughter to occupy all of her attention. "I don't pretend to understand any of this, Claire Bear, but I think this might be our only shot. In the end we take down Sylar. Nathan, and Meredith, and everyone else that he's killed, they don't _have_ to die."

"_You what_?" Peter shouted from the other end of the room effectively interrupting their conversation. He wrung his hands through his hair as he tried to control his temper. "Sylar was right about you," he pointed at his mother. "You really raised the bar for evil incarnate this time, Mom."

"He took my son!" she screeched at him. "Sylar slit his throat and watched him bleed to death. He killed my son." Her wild shrieks died down to a breathless tear that fell down the slope of her cheek. Angela wiped the drop away with renewed vigor, her tone dipping down to a dangerous rasp. "And now, I want him to know what that feels like."

She couldn't take anymore. Claire had had her fill of the scheming and manipulating and reached her breaking point for the day. She stormed out of the room and away from everyone that had used her for their own devices. In the haven of the upstairs, she let herself have a moment of peace in a steaming hot shower, bursting at the seams beneath its cleansing waters unafraid of anyone discovering her weakness. She didn't bother trying to put the dirty, stained jeans back on. Pulling the shirt back on, with the intention of only wearing it long enough to cover herself while she made it to the room that Angela kept for her, she had to stop and marvel.

_It moved_. She hadn't been ready to believe it up until then, that there was actually a child inside of her. A living, breathing, human being growing _inside_ of her. Her son. Gabriel's son. Claire roamed her fingers over the stop of her stomach, looking on in wonder as the mass shifted from one side to another. She had heard of bubbles being used to describe such a sensation but it felt a weak comparison at best. There were no words that could readily come to her mind to note the feeling of her baby moving within her. She found herself wondering what he was doing in there. What he might be thinking about. What would he look like the first time she saw him? Would he have his father's looks? Hers? The thought of a nice middle ground brought an irrevocable smile to her face that remained even after reality brought back the meaning of whose child it was.

Claire meandered into her room in search of clean clothing baggy enough to fit until she could find something better. During the mild frustration of such a task though, one of her teddy bears leaning against the pillows of her bed caught her attention. It was almost solid white, but with a little pink in the ears and smile, holding a rose. She felt like she hadn't seen it in forever, that it belonged to someone else's life. Had her father given it to her? She combed over all of the past bears that he had brought home as gifts for her, but the one she held didn't fit in with them. No. It was one that Gabriel had given her because he had seen her looking at it through the window of a store. The memory of the smile he had graced her with when she told him about how it reminded her of the collection Noah had given her put a matching one on her own lips. "_Maybe we can start our own collection,_" he had blushed as he handed it to her. But she left it behind in Gabriel's apartment. How in the world had it ended up there?

"Feeling nostalgic, Claire?"

The low, velvety rumbling of the voice sent ice to chill in her veins. "I know I certainly am seeing you wear that again." She didn't have to turn around to know who it was, but hysterical disbelief took control of the action. Sylar leaned against her doorway, arms folded over his chest and token smirk painting his features, casual and nonchalant as ever.

"I saw a man named Samuel Sullivan recently," he mused lightly as he slinked his way over to take a seat on the edge of her bed. "A barker at this most… _appetizing_ little carnival." Somewhat oblivious to her shock, Sylar only saw Claire move towards him from the corner of his eye. As a knee-jerk reaction to all of their history, his hand automatically raised to take her body into his control. "Now, now, sweet Claire," he chuckled. "There won't be any screaming or stabbing today. Take a seat." The puppet master yanked her strings about until she mechanically sat down next to him, the teddy bear still in her hand as she went. Thankfully her monster had the good will to have her sit with her legs crossed, already knowing how the shirt would ride up around her thighs.

"I'm sure you already know all the juicy details of how your daddy and grandma Angie shoved Nathan into my head so we'll skip over that. What you may not know though, is that when a telepath like Parkman starts digging into your brain - no pun intended," he smirked, "it can lead to some very interesting, and very _inconvenient _identity problems." Sylar lifted the back of his hand to caress the side of her cheek, mistaking the familiar twinge for her disgust as it usually was. "Like how," he leaned forward to tuck a rogue lock of hair behind her ear, "some of us turn out like you, and others turn out like me. Have you ever stopped to think about how much we have in common, Claire?" Her eyes clenched shut at the retrieval of their old dialogue and he pulled back with a wicked grin. "You were adopted. I was adopted. We were both abandoned by parents who didn't want us, and raised by parents who didn't understand us. Both of our fathers were cold blooded killers which is," he chuckled again, "_ironic _because _we_ can't be killed.

"I know these things probably seem arbitrary to you, but they're not. They're formative. The basic building blocks of our lives. And we have the same blocks. So how did we end up so far apart?"

Sylar took the teddy bear from her hand and spent a moment studying its fuzzy exterior. "I don't want to be alone, Claire. They told me that I needed a connection." When he peered back into her eyes his own had softened substantially, saddened by whatever memories he had found in the relic of their past. Rolling up his sleeve, he exposed a new tattoo to her, an effigy of her face. "Your face showing up in ink wasn't my choice. It's destiny showing me my desire. You're supposed to help me figure this all out."

He carelessly tossed the teddy bear over his shoulder to land on the pillows once more. "Thanks to our friend Lydia, I have a new tool to help with the process. She could see into the very depths of a person's soul just by touching them. And now, I can take all the answers I need straight from your pretty little head." Sylar took hold of the back of her neck and positioned her face where he wanted it. Looking down at her lips he suddenly seemed nervous though. Like the inexperienced Gabriel she had known before he appeared to be meticulously plotting out every move of what should have been a simple, straight forward procedure. And then he pressed their lips together.

The touch between them lasted half a heart beat, maybe. Sylar jerked back from her in wide eyed surprise for what he had seen. "Claire?" He gazed at her through pained chocolate brown eyes as if he were looking at something thought long lost but suddenly found. "I knew you'd come back to me someday." He released his hold on her instantly only to pull her face forward and crash their mouths together in desperation.

_How do you make love stay?_

"I followed you," he whispered in between ravaging kisses. "I looked for you, and I followed you. But then you weren't you. You acted like you didn't know me. Like I was just some monster that scared you. I never wanted to hurt you. I was just so angry that you would throw me away like that. Like everyone else did. It took me years to figure it out. That day when Stephen Canfield almost killed you and I touched your hand…" He shook his head at her with glassy eyes. "I saw it, Claire. I knew that you weren't my Claire. Not yet. So I had to wait. But I knew that you would come back to me."

Sylar pulled away to take her in. The necklace that he had made for her all those years ago draped down her neck to the collar of his shirt that hadn't been washed. "You just got back, didn't you?" And then his eyes fell further down to her stomach that he hadn't taken the time to notice before, though the information was already there. He lifted the black cloth away, drinking in the sight of the child that he had lost. Their son moved again under the palm that he placed on her tightened skin, and he dropped to his knees to press an anxious ear to her.

When he looked back upward she could see a timidly hopeful light within the depths of his eyes that she hadn't dared to think she would see again. As the brilliant, dopey smile spread across his face though, Claire knew that they had both finally found home.

"Gabriel?"

* * *

><p>"He needs to get to a real hospital," Peter groused after Hiro's waning health. "I'm taking him," he indicated to both Noah and Angela so that there would be no confusion or argument about the matter. "And Claire is coming with us." He glared at his mother one more time before sweeping from the room in a huff to find his niece.<p>

Noah shook his head with the saddest traces of a smile lifting up his perpetual frown. "How do you do it, Angela?"

"I told you," she stated as she took her previous chair and refilled her drink, "it's never good to know too much about the future." All traces of her faux tears gone from her eyes, Angela lifted a toast to her best agent. "Besides, I don't think we're finished just yet."

"But the rest is up to them."

"Indeed it is." She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling where she had already foreseen the events taking place above them. And with a wicked twinkle in her eye she took her drink. "The rest is up to them."


	34. Volume II: Killing Sylar

**So, for everybody that was happy with the way the last chapter ended, that's all folks. The end. But... if you happen to be curious about what happens next there is a continuation in production. It's going to be a lot different from Saving Gabriel though because I wanted to explore a whole new set of story mechanics involving the butterfly effect. Dunno if we've seen anything quite like it before.**

* * *

><p><strong>Volume II<strong>

**Killing Sylar**

"Come with me," he breathed in ear. "We can go anywhere. Do anything." His kisses doted over the curve of her shoulder. "We'll get new names and new lives. This can be our chance to start over, Claire. Just like we always wanted."

His offer was tempting. Too tempting. It was all too easy to close her eyes and allow herself to forget. To believe that the gentle fingers twining their way through her hair belonged to Gabriel again. And yet it was. The hands holding her hips to his didn't belong to Sylar.

He drifted away from her side, letting his hand follow the length of her arm, beckoning like the siren's song with promises of devotion. The window to her bedroom slid open without being touched and he climbed half way through it so that he was sitting on the sill with one leg out and one in. "Run away with me." It was a second chance being offered freely. Another chance for them to have a life together as a family. All she had to do was let herself have it.

Peter burst through the door in an already agitated state to take in the view of his brother's killer haunting the room of his niece. "Claire! Get away from him! Sylar, so help me…" She was caught between them, torn in the rift that separated her family from her love. Somewhere in the stand off, neither Peter nor Gabriel relenting she realized that in the face of her failure she had also been granted a second chance to set all things right. Another chance to save their world by ending the killer's reign of terror.

There was a choice to be made that could swing the pendulum of destiny in either direction. A choice that only she could make.

* * *

><p><strong>EDIT: Killing Sylar now posted.<strong>


End file.
